


One Faithful Harp

by B_Radley



Series: Rise and Fight Again [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Family, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Healing, Love, Multi, Pain, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-28 10:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 74,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10829736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: The Rebel operative and informant known as Fulcrum has been seriously injured defending an Outer Rim world - a world who disagrees on how to proceed against incursions by Imperial surrogates after the discovery of possible untold wealth on the moons of the world.Her allies struggle to get her to safety and advanced medical care, as well as fulfill her mandate to salvage freedom for the Mandalorian settlers of the world known as Stornan.Meanwhile, in the Core, the nascent movement that Fulcrum represents is threatened by a dispute between two Senators who are supporters and senior members of the movement.Bryne Covenant, a former Jedi Shadow must fight his own feelings of loss and alienation to bring both situations under control, along with his family and allies.  All while trying to deal with sensations in his newly regained Force sense of fellow Jedi surviving the Cataclysm, including his hunt-sister from his master's Togruta culture, Ahsoka Tano, unknown to him as Fulcrum.Failure will result in the destruction of the embryonic movement to free the Galaxy from the Imperial terror and oppression born of the ashes of the Old Republic.





	1. Prologue: The One in the Middle

**Author's Note:**

> Direct sequel to _The Harp He Loved_ and _Wild Harp Slung_. Takes place immediately after and up to about five minutes before my first story, _To the War is Gone._
> 
> Thanks to all that have read and commented.
> 
> One year as a writer on AO3.

_The being known as the Bendu, or the one in the middle, opens its eyes slowly from a deep slumber. The being's eyes look out over time and space._

_The Bendu spies the bright gold and green light of another Force-being on a world far away from the uncharted world the Bendu calls home. A being that was thought to be extinct after a knife thrust from her brother. A Brother who was the essence of darkness. A Brother who had also killed another who was in the middle._

_The Bendu smiles as he detects the essence in a young huntress. A child of light, touched with darkness, who may yet at least help fend off the overwhelming darkness._

_Until the new hope can strengthen the light again. A new hope born of the darkness inherent in the Chosen One. A new hope who waits for his destiny on a distant, hot world. A hope who waits under the watchful and careful eye of a Jedi Master. A Jedi Master who sits on the world, brooding, and remembering his losses. The losses of friends and family. The losses of students and younglings._

_The loss of one he had considered a brother. That self-same chosen one._

_The Master broods on his failures. His failure to keep his brother in the light. The failure of his Order to bend from its strict, doctrinaire existence. The failure to bend until it broke. Until it and all in it were ashes._

_The Bendu's mind returns to the young huntress, whose distress had wakened him. A powerful and skilled Force user in her own right - the student of the Chosen One. A child of the light, who had been cast out from that Order. Accused of murder and other crimes, she had been thrown to the mercy of the ruling bodies of the Galaxy. Bodies who were eager to sacrifice her light to the mobs who called for her head - mobs who had been influenced by the growing power of the darkness and its servants - the Sith._

_A young huntress offered the chance to return with vindication to the Order that she had loved. In her mistrust of the Order, in her despair, she had spurned the offer. She had made her own way in the Force's ripples and eddies. Until she was called back to the fight. A fight against a resurrected Sith and his allies on a war ravaged world._

_Until the darkness had fallen. Until the Jedi were slaughtered._

_The Bendu's brows furrow as he detects the fading light of the young one. His eyes flash with the fading balance. It is too soon for the Daughter's essence to be used again for the young one._

__

__

_The Bendu relaxes as new energy flows into the young huntress. Energy from the world, rather than the Force._

_Although some of the Force energy is present as well, in the form of another, weaker Force user._

_Of contact. Of encouragement._

__

__

_The Bendu waits._


	2. Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a distant world, a giant takes care of a huntress, as pirates come to save the day. A Queen cares for a caretaker.

The woman circles her opponent warily, The taller and younger opponent feints with a roundhouse. The more experienced fighter, but one who does not use the techniques as often, blocks the kick as well as the follow-up. The tall young woman takes advantage of her reach and moves swiftly with a series of jabs. 

The older woman uses the younger's height against her and moves under the jabs. Her own series of jabs pummel the tall young woman's side. She sees the pain on the woman's, _no, girl's_ sharp features. She drops her guard for an instant.

And flies back with an instinctive left hook to the jaw.

Stars blossom behind her eyelids, and not the kind that a certain Senator and Viceroy usually brings. She wills herself to push up instantly. She sees her opponent on her knees, her head bowed. She smirks.

 _All that Naboo handmaiden training and its ceremonial poodoo,_ she thinks. The smirk broadens. _Methinks that my Hand has bolluxed a royal training partner before._

Queen Breha of Alderaan manages to get to her feet. She only sways briefly, as she makes sure that her jaw still works. She walks over and takes Nola Vorserrie's hand in hers and raises her to her feet. She breaks protocol and kisses her fixer on the cheek. For some unknown reason, she tenderly takes the taller woman in her arms briefly. 

They break away and formally bow. Breha ruefully looks at her taped hands. A tiny bit of blood on her knuckles can be seen. She raises Nola's shirt; runs her hands over the areas already starting to bruise.

"I'm sorry, Nola. The object of this sparring session is to not hit and get hit, but block. Got a little carried away, your Grace," she says. She sees the young Naboo's eyes start at the unfamiliar honorific; one that accompanies her new responsibilities.

The Hand of the Queen. The right-hand of the monarch of the Elder Family of the House of Alderaan. Where the Consort and Senator is the left.

"It's okay, my Queen. Shouldn't have let my tiny opponent get under my reach," she says with a cheeky grin.

Breha rolls her eyes. "Didn't know I was fighting a giantess. If I didn't have to account for two meters in height you wouldn't have to worry about me getting under your reach."

"I'm only 1.88, Majesty. You're just making excuses."

The monarch draws up to her full height. A full twenty-six centimeters below. "Makes all the difference," Breha says dryly. "You'll hit your growth spurt, someday," is the reply.

Their easy laughter cuts through the training dojo. She turns and walks over to the wall, unwrapping her hands. She pulls two water bottles from the cooler.

She turns around. Her heart sinks as she sees Sabe´, Nola's fellow former handmaiden and now guardian of her daughter, talking to her Hand. 

Her eyes widen as she sees tears forming in the tall young woman's eyes. Sabe´exits. Nola slumps to the floor.

Breha instantly knows, as the young Naboo gives the appearance of both grief and resignation. 

Resignation of having been expecting this news.

She moves closer and sits next to Nola. "How bad?" the Queen asks softly. "She is still alive," is the only reply. "Barely."

Breha is no longer in the training dojo. She sees a strong, beautiful young huntress tossing her daughter into the air while standing in a mountain lake. The four-year old's glee apparent in her laughter and screams.

She sees these two young women, at times laughing, at times shouting at one another; stalking away from each other with thunderous expressions on both beloved faces. 

She sees them lying asleep together in a bed, their bodies entwined in an annual respite from their realities. In an annual attempt to seize what light they can before one heads out into the galaxy.

Heads out while the other dies inside; waiting for news like this of her sister. Of her responsibility. 

_Of her sister of her heart,_ as the Zeltrons say. Not family of blood, but of choice. Of love. Of respite.

Breha ignores protocol, as always, and takes her minister in her arms. She feels the young woman calming. Her own tears silently dot Nola's dark hair.

_How will I tell Leia?_

~+~+~+~+~+

Another giant holds a huntress against the night, as he takes the risk to move the young woman from the rooftop.

A rooftop where she had met the powerful weapons of an Imperial cruiser with only her ancient weapons, her connection to a mystical energy field, and her body.

 _The latter is probably the strongest of the three._ He smiles ruefully. _That and her stubborn will._ Something that probably came naturally, but was nurtured by other examples in her life.

_Including himself._

As he moves to the street, he is careful to keep her arms held separately from her body and each other. His eyes fall as he sees the damage to them. The ruin from her exploding lightsabers. He catches a tiny glimpse of white bone peeking through a wound. He shakes his head at the fact that her powerful use of the Force had kept most of the rest of her body undamaged and whole.

He gently lays her on the ground. He feels presences running up behind. He makes sure that the young huntress's face is obscured by her hood and cowl. He looks up into the face of Tehlen Skirata. The young woman who lives and dies with this world. 

A woman rejected by it. She crouches down and places her hand inside the cowl on the young woman's cheek. Her dark eyes tear.

He notices that a crowd has gathered, watching silently. An older human, wearing a white smock with the universal symbol of a medico kneels beside the young woman.

A smock that only has a passing acquaintance with cleanliness. A smock that also bears the mark of Clan Merrik. A minion of Idiot _Aurek,_ as Drop refers to him.

The medico, who sways slightly as he examines Ahsoka's arms, turns and motions to someone behind him. "Let's get her to surgery," the Merrik says. "Surgery?" Drop says incredulously. "Yes," the doctor says. "I will have to amputate both arms."

"I'm no doctor, but what about bacta?" The medico snorts derisively. "There has never been bacta on this world. She will have to wait her turn, just like everyone else." He gasps as a large hand seizes his throat and lifts him off of the ground from his kneeling position. He claws at the iron hand.

"You might want to rethink your position, asshole. She just risked her life for this useless piece of shit world. For your people." He is aware of a rumble from the crowd. He feels a hand going to a blaster behind him. 

He is even more aware of Tehlen Skirata pointing her blaster at Idiot _Aurek_. Drop releases the doctor with a shove. The doctor is further shoved away by a tall, blue-skinned woman who has run up with several of her crew.

A crew running up with a battered med-droid. A med-droid who had given him the heart-stimulant that he had used on the young woman. He notices for the first time that a sable CR-90 has landed in a field next to the street. The med-droid speaks. "Get her up. Get her to the ship." Drop's heart rises at the next words. "We can save her if we get her into bacta, now. Don't even worry about getting the bracers pulled off. Get her in." The droid looks at Lassa. "Get her clothes off on the way to the tank."

Lassa nods. "I have sent a message. Her bosses are sending a medical ship to meet us," she says where only Drop and Tehlen can hear. A large Tholothian lifts the agent as tenderly as Drop has seen him ever do anything. Another crewmember, a young Nikto, holds her arms separate. The pair turns and moves quickly to the ship, belying Adis's bulk. Lassa hugs Drop and Tehlen to her. She kisses both on the cheek. "I'll see you later. I'll take good care of her." She smiles. "Done this before," she whispers. The pirate looks at Drop. "Talle will be safe with me." Drop's eyes soften at the mention of his daughter, a fierce little girl who would dismantle anyone who hurt her father. _Or her absent mother._

Lassa and her crew turn and are gone. Gege Merrik pushes his luck. "What about us?" he says. "Who will fight for us, now?" he asks.

Tehlen, to her credit, manages to keep Drop from tearing him in half. As does another voice of reason. "Shut up, Merrik," says a diminutive woman, her blue eyes lancing him. Aurek's own eyes flash, but he turns and stalks away. Drop smiles. _Maybe there is one who doesn't deserve the title of 'Idiot Besh,'_ he thinks. Jan t'Kryze nods at him. "Please, let us know how Fulcrum fares," she says. She turns to Tehlen. "We put ourselves at your disposal, Len'ika," she says.

Drop looks at her. "It will be that young woman's choice whether we assist you. Hers and hers alone; when she recovers." The woman nods at his choice of words. "Tehlen will have to make her own choice, since you apparently have rejected her so thoroughly."

The young woman looks at them, her eyes thoughtful. She makes a decision. "No. When you fully accept Fulcrum's help; when you listen to her; maybe we will talk. But now, I think I have a life elsewhere."

t'Kryze nods. "We will be in touch, Balor. I will bring them in line."

Tarre Tredecima, once known as Drop, nods at her. _There might be hope, if they listen to the smarter ones._

~+~+~+~+~+

The young woman at the center of attention fights for her life in her mind. She fights her way through the intense pain. She remembers seeing the beloved face of one of her brothers through slitted eyes fighting with her.

Tears fall as she remembers the knifing pain in her chest; the resulting explosion in her heart. An explosion that yanks her unceremoniously back from the warmth and peace of the Force.

_I am one with the Force; the Force is with me._

Her heart leaps as a cacophony of voices reply to her.

A cacophony led by a warm Corellian drawl. The drawl of a man whose Togruti name she had called for as her world exploded in pain.

A man that she cannot find in the Force. Warmth intrudes into her senses. The warmth of his skin against hers as their feelings for each other expand into the physical. The warmth of his eyes as they lock on hers from above her, as she feels the warmth of his finish inside of her. The first time she had ever felt that.

She can feel her own mind's eye roll. _Way to go. You had to have your heart started by a drug before it failed and you're thinking about your nethers._

Her mind begins to slip into a healing trance. _Another first. Never could get one started, before._

She hears her Master trying to instruct her. Instruct her, when he wasn't all that good at it, himself. _Come on Snips. Focus._

_The Force works in mysterious ways._

Ahsoka Tano hears the warmth of the drawling inflection. _Not your time, Runt. Just like it ain't mine._

Her heart soars as she feels the warmth of the Force surround her _No! Taliesin. I want to finish talking to you! Where are you? No!_

Her mind screams as it falls into the trance. The pain, and her memories recede.

~+~+~+~+~+~

On an icy world, a young hunter starts towards consciousness as he tries to pursue the presence in his mind. 

_Runt! Ahsoka! Come back!_

The cold intrudes into his consciousness. He looks around as he comes awake. A somewhat familiar Pantoran male sits asleep in the chair near his bed.

A warm, comfortable bed, quite unlike the hard cold floor of the Pantoran drunk tank that he last felt himself lying on.

When his senses exploded with screaming. Screaming in a familiar voice.

A voice filled with intense pain, not death.

Bryne Covenant lies back in the comfortable bed, his eyes troubled as he tries to remember the sensations of his lost hunt-sister.


	3. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody seems to be dealing with everybody else.

Boba Fett eyes the man and woman sitting across from him in the dingy room. The dim light of Coruscant's Level 1313 seeps into the window.

"The two that are actually taking care of these problems for us are already in place. My employers have assured me that they won't move until the two of you get there."

The woman looks back at him, her distaste apparent on her olive face. Her icy blue eyes cut into him. "So how expendable are these two? Do you want us to do it, or do you want to ensure that the security forces take care of the problem for you?"

"I don't really care. Just do it. What does it matter?" the young hunter says irritably. 

"Well, it tells me that they should've put a man in charge of this instead of a boy." Her eyes spark. "Or a copy of a boy."

Fett raises up. There is a clatter as his chair hits the ground. "Listen, bitch. Doesn't matter that they put me in charge. They probably figured that you and your boyfriend here kriffed up your last job so bad that there was no way anyone would put you in charge of anything more complex than a tooka-herding operation. So keep your mouth shut unless you have a question and _tell your fucking boyfriend to put his hands on the table where I can see them, or those tattoos will be split in half."_

"And for the last time, I am not a goddamned clone," he says, his voice calmer.

Leve Stane looks at him curiously. She smirks, but nods slightly. She glances at her husband. His eyes are hard, but not at the Fett clone. His expression is instructive.

To her.

She turns back to Fett. "Point taken, Boba. My point is, that if we make it look like security did it; it is harder to track it back to your employers." Her eyes grow more dangerous. "Or more importantly, to us"

The young bounty hunter nods, digesting this. "I don't think my employers care. It is up to you."

Jaze does smile at the face-saving instruction. "With that in mind, do you want us to finish the job if those two fail?"

Fett smiles. "No. If they fail, this is the opening salvo. My employers have a more...internal solution to their problems."

Jaze nods. "Then that settles the question. We'll help the cops see to your fall-guys."

Boba starts to say something; closes his mouth. _First smart thing you've done all evening, boy,_ Jaze thinks. "One other thing, Boba. You seem good with disposing of our little assassins." His eyes grow hard. "Don't even think of it beyond them. In spite of your reputation, you will die."

The two men eye each other. Both pairs of hands move under the table. Leve grins. "I am suddenly very wet. All this testosterone." Her riposte breaks the tension, as both men return their hands to the table.

Fett stands up and dons his _buy'ce._ Jaze takes on a pleasant expression. "Remember our payment, Boba. Fifty thousand. Each. Plus expenses. 

Fett nods. "I remember." Without another word, he turns and walks out.

Leve stands up and walks over to Jaze, her thumbs in the waistband of her trousers. As she is bare to him, she straddles his lap. There is an intake of breath, no one is sure who makes the noise as she reaches into his trousers. She kisses him with surprising gentleness. "I really, really, hate working for a clone," she says. "Killed enough of them in the war." He returns her kiss with equal fervor. "I know," he says. "But this is our chance to start fresh. As well as get the credits to help us end that meddling Senator and her toy."

They are silent, except for the muted moans and gasps as they re-connect.

~+~+~+~+~+

Draq' Bel Iblis looks out at the rugged Alderaani mountains from the small room in the Royal palace. He thinks of family.

Of a young ex-Jedi who has now gotten himself into an intergalactic incident on a cold world. The Dragon's blue eyes go hard, then immediately soften. _No one to blame but yourself, Dragon. You married into the Blackthorns. You know them. You know that once on a target; they will tear at it relentlessly if there is the slightest hint of being able to protect someone._

He smiles ruefully. The door behind him opens. A tiny Pantoran woman walks in. His eyes flash at the possible cause of his nephew's current incarceration. 

_Or at least the one he was actually sent to deal with._

He suddenly realizes he is the object of Riyo Chuchi's searching gaze. One that if he wasn't the Dragon of Corellia, would've had him in a fetal position on the ground.

He does what he always does when confronted by adversity. 

He replaces the Dragon smile with something less reptilian. _Slightly._

The Right Honorable Senator from the sovereign world of Pantora is not exactly impressed. 

He closes his eyes and then meets her gaze. "I guess you passed the background check," he says dryly. 

She smiles. She sits on the couch in the small room. Her gold eyes narrow. "I think I passed it when your boy got distracted." Her smile grows into a devilish grin. "I have something of yours, by the way."

He walks over and sits. "So. What have I got to do to get my lost boy back?" She touches his hand and laughs. She suddenly makes him feel older than he is.

Older than dirt. _Maybe this is a young person's game, now._ "You could buy me dinner, Dragon," she says. "At Delmon's on Coruscant."

"I might have that lost boy cook for you. Or I will. It will be a lot better than overpriced nerf-steak."

"How are you with breakfast?" she asks innocently.

 _Okay. She has out-charmed me_. Without thinking, he replies. "My nephew is better at breakfast."

She laughs. "Good to know. But I prefer a more experienced chef scrambling my eggs."

He quits while he is behind. "So what is Bryne's status?" he asks. 

She grows serious. "My chief of staff finally found him in he drunk tank. By the time that I got involved, he had been transferred to the medical wing."

"What happened?"

She takes a sip of water from the pitcher. "He had some sort of spell. A seizure. Apparently he was disturbing the drunks; that was the only reason they moved him."

Draq's eyes track down to the floor. "What kind of seizure?" he asks quietly.

She sees his eyes; takes his hand in hers. "I think it has something to do with his past," she says pointedly. "His skills."

 _She knows,_ he thinks. His blood runs cold. _So soon? Somebody recognized him as a Jedi already?_

She squeezes the hand. "Shh, Procurator. I only knew it because I knew his kind during the war." Her face falls. "I knew them and worked with a few." She looks at him. "He is safe." she whispers.

"Where is he?"

"I was able to get him released into my custody. He is under house arrest at my home. My chief of staff, who I trust with my life, is watching over him."

He is about to reply when the door opens. Senator Bail Organa walks in. "We have a serious problem," he says without preamble.

"Just one?" Draq' says dryly.

"Stornan has blown up." He looks at Riyo. He chooses his words; discards them. _No business metaphors. Not now._ "The Imperials sent a cruiser. Something happened. I am not clear on all of the details. The cruiser was heavily damaged; is in hyperspace without comms." He steels himself. "In the process, Fulcrum was seriously injured."

Riyo visibly wilts. Draq' returns the squeeze to her hand. She is careful in her next question. "How are they?"

"Alive," is all Bail says. "But Stornan has erupted in the Senate, as well."

He looks at Draq'. "The surrogate rep from Corellia has accused the surrogate rep from Chandrila of profiteering from the misery."

Draq's teeth clinch. "Goddammit." is all that he says. "Is this another Mon and Garm show?"

"I don't know. I don't know the source of it."

"I may," Riyo says quietly. They look at her. She has been quiet, thinking of a woman named Jana Roshti. _One of her names._ She shakes thoughts of her friend from her mind. "My chief of staff has uncovered some connections to Stornan. A Chandrilan concern is supplying weapons to one of the factions. One that has not gotten involved in the fighting, but seems to be waiting."

Bail and Draq' are silent as they digest this. "There is more," the young woman says. "Corellia is apparently supplying mining know-how, as well as weapons to another faction. Again, one that is not involved in the fighting."

Bail looks at Draq', his anger growing. The Corellian is as surprised as the Alderaani. His eyes flash blue fire as his mind wraps around the problem. "I'll handle this," he spits out. He stands and nods at them both. He smiles gently at Riyo; her expression of pain. 

Bail watches him as he strides out of the room; his head down. The Viceroy-Consort turns to Riyo. He replaces the Dragon's hand with his own. "Last report was that she is alive, Riyo. Her pirates are getting her as close as they dare."

Riyo's eyes are hopeful. "They are going to rendezvous with my medical ship, the _Sundered Heart._ " Incongruously, Riyo thinks that this is a horrible name for a medical corvette.

She shakes the thought away as she notices Bail looking at her with a slight smile. "The ship is waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for the esteemed Senator from Pantora to get her ass to the ship, so that she can check on her friend." He grins. "Her wife, as well."

He smiles at the resemblance to someone else when he is engulfed in a leaping hug.

~+~+~+~+~+

Lassa Rhayme watches her friend struggle against the pain. Her quartermaster is suspended in a tank of blue-tinged, viscous fluid. She is clad only in the ruined remnants of her bracers. They had wasted no time putting on the usual small clothes that most patients wore for modesty.

She grins. _Even those whose people have no sense of modesty whatsoever._

The pirate sees the brilliant blue eyes snap open for just an instant. She sees the lips around the respirator move as if she wants to speak.

The windows snap closed again, as more sedative is administered. She had heard the words from Ahsoka's mouth as they were prepping her. 

Her bronze eyes tear as she remembers a night over a half-decade ago. Of two young warriors baring themselves to each other. The vulnerability apparent to each other.

As well as to her, separately and together. The tears spill as she remembers the expressions on each of their faces, as they touched each other's hearts, minds, and bodies.

Of the sensations of them lying against her. Resting. Living.

She thinks of the last time that she had seen the man who was once Taliesin Croft. A Jedi who was already dead, but reborn as something else. 

When she had thrown him off of her ship and crew. She remembers the deadness in his eyes.

 _She wouldn't have wanted this for you, Tal,_ she had said.

This was before she had walked into a filthy bar, trying to investigate and save someone who was posting about lightsabers. Before her heart had soared when she had seen those blue eyes under a hood again. Blue eyes full of pain, but of purpose as well. Older, but still with some of the snark and life in them.

She still waits to see if her other Jedi idiot still lives. If he actually lives after his painful losses.

Lassa Rhayme looks at her Quartermaster. She thinks of her cook, as well as an ex-Sith bounty hunter that had so briefly had touched her life.

A woman who had truly returned to the light. The tears spill freely as she remembers.


	4. This Is A Peaceful World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More talking. Punctuated by blasterfire.

Garm Bel Iblis smiles at the person sitting across the table from him. He grasps his wife's hand in a loose grip. Her return smile is warm. Warm, for her, at least. "How long do you have, dear?" she asks. His smile fades. "Only a few minutes, love. Have to meet with Bail and Queen Breha."

She rolls her eyes. "Really? Do you have to? Isn't that your father's job?" He narrows his dark eyes. "Bail Organa is one of my oldest friends and one of my staunchest allies in the Senate. I can spare him some time." He withdraws his hand.

Lady Arrianya Tagge-Bel Iblis, scion of an old Core family in her own right, smiles to diffuse the sudden tension. "Point taken, my dear husband. I am just not appreciative of their criticism of the Empire. The Emperor brought order out of chaos. I am sure that Alderaan benefits from that as much as any ancient Core world."

"I guess your Imperial advisor buddy has been visiting again, so that you can share recipes." His good mood has vanished. He drains his brandy and validates the check. Her beautiful face grows still. _Usually a sign that I am going to have to listen to the latest COMPNOR talking points._ "You would do well to talk to him. It would help your career and help the Five Brothers." 

Her eyes grow hard. "Of course, if you always want to remain in the Dragon's shadow..." she finishes.

The rest is left unsaid as he stands and exits the restaurant, leaving his wife's resentment to boil.

~+~+~+~+~+

Garm walks out of the hotel into the cool mountain air of Aldera. He takes a deep breath. His wife's family obligations and Imperial entanglements have cooled their passionate relationship on many occasions. 

When she had accepted him as her husband, her love had been unconditional. 

That was before the New Order. Before her oldest brother had given up his title to accept membership on the Imperial General staff as a planner and strategist. Before the title had fallen on another brother's shoulders. A brother unfit for the leadership of their huge intergalactic corporation. Before that corporation had become one of the Empire's primary 'partners' in galactic monopoly and domination. He grits his teeth. _Of Order._

A covered black landspeeder slows besides his brisk walk. He pointedly ignores it. The rear window lowers. His father looks at him through slitted blue eyes. The old man's anger can be felt outside the vehicle. He stops and turns. He waits.

"Get the fuck in," is all that the Dragon of Corellia says. 

For a brief moment, he considers ignoring the demand. His own anger flows to his dark eyes, a gift from his mother, and her mother before her.

He steps off of the curb and walks around to the other side of the vehicle. The security officer steps out from the front and opens the door for him. He climbs into the back seat. As the door closes and they wait for the guard to get back in, Draq' turns to him and eyes him. 

"So I have to learn from another Senator that you have embroiled us in a shooting war in the Outer Rim?" he says pointedly.

Garm's eyes flash with dark humor rather than the raw anger. "Good morning to you, too, Dragon," he says with feigned politeness.

His father erupts.

~+~+~+~+~+

Breha Organa smiles politely as the tea is poured. She looks at an old friend with undisguised affection.

Affection tempered with worry for another. Nola Vorserrie watches her Queen with concern as she turns to the Senator from Chandrila.

A Senator who can see the worry on both women's faces. "What is bothering you both?" she asks in her soft voice. Both women start and look at one another. "Nothing we can't handle, Mon," the Queen says. 

The Chandrilan's face is skeptical, but she does not push the issue. "So what do I owe the pleasure of an invitation to tea at the Palace Royal?" Her blue eyes pierce them both.

"I am here on behalf of Bail, but of my planet as well, Mon. We have heard of some disturbing developments in your little feud with Garm Bel Iblis and Corellia."

Mon rolls her eyes, but smiles tightly. "I don't have a feud with Corellia. Only with Garm and his pushing us towards open warfare with the Empire."

"Well, apparently, your world now has a business competition with Corellia. On a world that we are trying to relieve from the chances of the Empire sweeping in."

Breha's eyes widen as she sees the perplexed look in Mon's eyes. Wordlessly, she motions to Nola. Nola hands the Senator a datapad. Both women watch as the expression shift from neutral analysis to wide-eyed incredulity to outright fury.

Mon closes her eyes as she finishes reading. Breha can tell that she is centering herself. She returns the datapad to Nola. 

"I was afraid of this," she says quietly. 

"What, Mon?" Breha prompts gently. "Malat Ton. My Head of State. The head of my political party."

"I know that you don't see eye-to-eye, dear, but what does he have to do with this?" Breha asks. 

"Everything. And nothing," comes the quiet reply. Both Alderaani women wait patiently. "This concern that is supplying a faction on Stornan. It is a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a blind trust of his holdings."

Breha and Nola look at one another again, then at Mon. "As you say, it is no secret that we have butted heads." She takes a sip of her tea. "He does not approve of my voicing objections to the Emperor in the Senate. He has gone on record as saying that he thinks our destiny as a world is tied to the Empire." She grins. "But, he can't come out and fire me or chastise me in public. The people who support me, as well as party leadership, hold a slight edge."

"What does this have to do with the company?" Nola asks. 

Mon looks at her for a moment. "I think that it is his way and some of his cronies to show that we can profit from a close relationship with the Empire. By helping secure the Imperial mining rights for the Tibanna gas. The thing is, there may not be a lot I can do about it. If I push, with my views in the Senate, it could be used against me. Bail's movement would lose a voice with seniority in the Senate."

Nola is thoughtful for a moment. "I may have a way out. If Alderaan or Naboo were to expose this relationship; it could move more people to your stance, Senator."

"Yes, dear. But you will have to expose it. I can't be a part of it."

"Understood. We have someone working on the Corellian angle as well. We may be able to have them expose both sides."

"It can't be Garm."

"Actually, it isn't. But someone close."

Mon suddenly starts laughing. "So a Dragon is getting involved?" she asks. 

"Already is. Giving Garm an ass-chewing as we speak."

Both Nola and Breha choose to ignore the soft look in the Senator's eyes at the mention of a certain reptile.

Mon stands up as an aide pokes his head in and coughs politely. "I am meeting your beloved for a working lunch at the hotel." she says. "Could I borrow your new Hand to help work out the details?" Breha embraces the Chandrilan warmly. "Of course." A mischievous gleam comes into the royal eye. She rubs a bruise on her jaw. "Be careful, though. She has a mean left hook."

Both older women laugh at Nola's blush.

~+~+~+~+~+

Garm Bel Iblis stares at his father with deep anger. "So let me get this straight. You are going to allow Bail and Riyo and even Mon to interfere in Corellia's sovereign right to engage in commerce on an Outer Rim world?"

"No. I, the Procurator Fiscal and External, am going to put a stop to an ill-conceived business venture, capitalizing on the instability of a world that is split by internal strife and bloodshed."

Garm is silent. Draq' softens. "Son, I know that you know what we are getting involved in. I also know that you want to move faster. That you don't want to repeat a mistake you made in the Clone Wars." He touches Garm's cheek. "A mistake that you are the only one that thinks you made. I am still so damned proud of the stand you took to keep us out of the War and Palpatine's machinations."

Garm contemplates the seat back. "By proclaiming our neutrality, I kept us of out of the bloodshed. But we could've been another powerful voice against him in the Senate. As it was, I could only sit there and 'observe.' While the galaxy went to shit." he says quietly, his voice full of pain.

"I know. But you took a stand by invoking the _Contemplanys Hermani ._ You did what you had to do. But I am asking you to back off and wait." His eyes grow even harder. "There is also the fact that most of the concern created for the venture seems to be slanted towards TaggeCo. That is problematic."

The thunderous expression reappears on Garm's face. "Is this what this is really about, Dragon? I need to 'curb my woman?"

Draq' drops his hand. "Again, you are ascribing motives to me that have no basis in reality. In spite of what you think, I know what it means to love someone. You just need to be able to separate it from your political life."

"Yeah. You did such a goddamned good job of that on Zeltros." Even as he says it, he wishes he could take it back.

Draq' is silent as his anger grows. He clenches his fists; then relaxes them. "This is an order from a Privy Councilor to a member of the government and a Corellian citizen. Cease and desist all activity on Stornan with any factions until further notice. I'll get the Diktat involved, if you like."

Garm says nothing. "This is my hotel. Stop here." He is out as soon as the vehicle stops. Draq' watches him stalk up the stairs. As he reaches the top, a reedy human steps out from behind a planter. Draq's eyes widen as he sees the metallic object in the man's hand.

He is out of the car with surprising agility of any man, not just one of his years. "Down! Gun!" he yells.

The sound of two blaster shots pierce the air. He sees his son crumple.

The reedy human lies crumpled next to him. Draq' turns to his right, his blaster in his hand. 

Dani Faygan stands there, her smoking blaster held in a braced position over the hood of another landspeeder.

A father runs towards his son.

A daughter and sister follows him.

~+~+~+~+~+

The killer stands on the sidewalk outside of the hotel, behind the security cordon. His left hand holds a small, nondescript device in his pocket.

His right holds a small hidden blaster. He stands among the reporters and admiring crowds that follow where any of the royal family go on this world. 

At first glance, in his 'business casual' attire, he fits in to the well-wishers in the outer business district of Aldera.

His more muscular physique, his analyzing eyes, and his unsmiling demeanor set him apart from the others. In fact, he more closely resembles those security officers in plainclothes than the reporters and gawkers.

He stands straighter as the door open. A compact man with one eye covered by an eyepatch, his other eye surveying the crowds, leads. He turns and nods to someone behind him. Three people walk out. One, a tall man with a graying beard and an air of command. The other is a smaller woman with bright red hair and piercing blue eyes who walks with the same aura of restrained power. His target. Both are smiling, but the watcher can see that both are bothered.

It is the third figure that draws his attention. A tall, much younger woman in a business suit, the very picture of a political mover and shaker, also surveys the crowd. 

It is her eyes that draw him. Brown eyes that set her apart from most politicos. Her eyes are those of a protector. A professional minder. 

They are focused on a security speederbike. One that he had just bent near when its rider was distracted.

Her eyes are focused on the device that he had attached.

The world begins moves in slow motion for the killer. He sees the young woman simultaneously draw a weapon and shout. The killer sees the one-eyed man turn and shove the two Senators back through the door.

The killer triggers the device in his left pocket. There is noise and light. Smoke and fire. He sees several people crumple, including the one-eyed man who had shoved his charges from out of harm's way.

He sees the tall young woman's dark eyes lock on his. He draws the blaster from his pocket.

Jeml Gaivan, Senior Inspector, Corellian Security Force, (retired) turns to flee. The hairs on the back of his neck tell him that the tall young woman is pursuing.


	5. We Have No Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...but we have a Hand of the Queen. More blasterfire and conspiracy.

Nola Vorserrie pushes her way through the crowd as her eyes lock on the man with the cop's eyes. She realizes that the heels that had looked so good with the suit are slowing her down. She checks to make sure she is clear of any broken glass from the small explosion and kicks them off. She makes a note to think about function over form next time.

Her mind's eye goes back to a powerful warrior smirking at her during a long distance run on mountain trails. The huntress running barefoot, in the manner of her people. Barefoot to feel the connection with the world.

She shakes her head and dodges left as she sees the attacker turn and fire over his shoulder at her. _Come on, No-no. This is not the time for fashion advice._

She grins as she feels her bare feet on the pavement. As she remembers the look of the huntress as the young Naboo passed her on the trail. 

At least for about ten seconds.

She draws her own blaster and checks the target area. _No friendlies or innocents._ She sends a bolt towards her quarry. The former handmaiden curses as her initial fire slices to the right, striking a power pole.

_You need to get back to the range. Guess you need to concentrate on moving targets._

The killer send two bolts back at her in reply. She dodges one, but yelps as the second one glances off of her right bicep. She manages not to drop her blaster. The smell of singed flesh and burning fabric assaults her nostrils.

The smell of still-burning fabric. 

She manages to switch her blaster to her left hand and throw off the smoking jacket. The breeze of her pursuit chills her bare arms. She manages a glimpse of her wound. A light, high voice cuts through her consciousness. _I've had worse bug bites, Princess._

She shoves the pain of that voice to the back of her mind. Her eyebrows raise as she sees her quarry stumble and clutch his left arm for a brief second. He continues a few steps, then stops. 

He turns and fires a series of shots. Nola goes to her knees and fires her own salvo. She looks down at herself and finds no more extra holes. She looks up and curses. 

The man lies on the ground. Three evenly spaced extra holes in his chest. She hears sirens in the distance as she walks up and kicks the weapon from his hand.

The young Naboo kneels next to him. His brown, fixed eyes stare into her own. She remembers a movement during the pursuit. She looks at his left arm. There is a tiny tear in the suit jacket, but nothing more.

"Halt! Drop your weapon!" She stands and holsters the blaster. She turns and sees two uniformed peacekeepers; their blasters pointed at her. "I said drop it! Get on the ground!" says the one with the decidedly shaking blaster.

Her eyes lance them with their intensity. A deep voice behind them comes to her rescue. "Stand down, officers. She is with us."

They part and turn to one with definite authority. A tall, older male is holstering his own weapon. He is dressed in civilian clothes. His shaven head tracks to one of the peacekeepers who is a bit slow in obeying. The officer blanches and holsters her weapon. Nola's eyes lock on the small, brushed silver rank plaque pinned to his lapel. A square with an gold etched representation of Alderaan and the scales of justice, as well as a single dark blue, almost black pip resting at the bottom. He smiles and bows his head. "Ma'am." 

The plainclothes officer walks up to her. "Lieutenant M'Faru, ma'am. University District Station."

His dark eyes look down at the male and back to her. "Remind me to never piss off the Senator's office."

His strong hand grasps her arm as she stumbles. His eyes grow soft and understanding, as he uses his body to shield her from onlookers.

~+~+~+~+~+

Leve stares at the scene unfolding below her perch in a low communications tower through narrowed blue eyes. She had noticed the meddling young woman looking at the Corellian's left arm.

The place where she had placed the dart precisely where it would explode his heart. The former Separatist officer sights down the barrel of the air rifle. She works the bolt. She focuses on the skin exposed over the young woman's breasts. She lowers the rifle, shaking her head slightly. _No. The Plod is too close. He would see the flinch from the dart strike. I'd have to kill him and possibly the others._

Too many heart attacks in the confined space.

She stands. She will have to hope that the drug works as advertised and leaves no trace in the system.

Leve Stane, ex-Commander in the Confederacy of Independent Systems' military intelligence, quickly disassembles the air rifle. Her blue eyes are troubled as she starts to climb down from her hunters' blind.

~+~+~+~+~+

Bail Organa watches as Nola Vorserrie trudges back up to the hotel entrance. The Senator had refused to leave when his security detail had tried to push him in a car. He was everywhere, assisting with the removal of casualties, as well as showing his world that he was not cowed by violence or threats.

He pulls the young Naboo into his arms. He looks at her. She is clad in her sleeveless silk blouse and bare feet. He motions to a uniformed officer. He hands the older man a blanket. Bail gently places it around her shoulders. He guides her over to a medical transport, where she sits while a medical assistant droid begins to tend her arm wound.

"What's the cost?" she whispers. "Much lower than it could've been. Only about ten injured." his face grows grim. "Gregar is probably the most seriously injured. He has a lot of shrapnel in his back, from when he shielded us. He is in surgery, then will go into bacta for awhile."

"Are you all right, Senator?" 

"I'm fine. Mon was hit by a few pieces. We were lucky that you saw that thing hanging off of the bike. I guess those damned dangerous speederbike races you ride in paid off." He looks at the blast site. "As near as the EOD people can tell, based on news footage, it was an old Separatist anti-personnel mine. We got lucky," he says, "they said something was wrong. The explosive was underpowered."

He notices that she is silent. "What?" he asks. She takes a deep breath, releases it. "Were we lucky, or was it planned like this?"

He raises his eyebrows. She forges ahead. "I saw something odd with the attacker, just before he turned and fired on me." She looks down. "Before I had to shoot him."

He hands her a water bottle. She drains it. "He looked like he was hit in the arm as he was running from me. When I got to his body, he had very tiny tear in his jacket in around the same spot. No protectile, or any visible wound that I could see."

"Did you let the cops know?" She nods and smiles. "Yeah. There was a Lieutenant of Inspectors from University there. He seemed very sharp, but he said that he probably wouldn't be in on the investigations. That the Square would probably take over," she says, using the colloquial term for the headquarters of Alderaan's Planetary Peace and Security Force. 

"Coupled with the underpowered bomb, the fact that this guy had the look of a cop..." She trails off. 

Bail lets her rest before he speaks. "There is more. Garm Bel Iblis was attacked outside his hotel just a few minutes before." 

"Is he....?" she asks. "He took a blaster bolt to the chest, but the attacker's aim was thrown off," he replies.

"By what?"

"Your foster sister hitting him in the head with a blaster shot." He holds up his hand. "Before you ask, she and Draq' are both okay."

He sees her swell with pride and relief for a brief moment. The moment passes and she is the consummate tired professional.

"How many years without an assassination attempt and all of a sudden we have two in one day? Two that involved two offworld politicians who are at each other's throats?"

"The last was during the War. Ziro the Hutt tried to have your kinswoman, Padme' Amidala killed. A certain Padawan of our acquaintance helped foil it." Nola smiles at this. "But, we can't rule out the possibility that this was due to that animosity."

The Hand shakes her head. "I don't know, Senator," Nola says. "This is too pat. Almost too clumsy. I think that something else is at play."

"Well, I can almost guarantee that ISB will get involved. Let's see what PPS can find out."

"If Somar is in charge? Good luck," she says with a snort.

"Be nice, Nola," he says absently, "although you do raise a good point. I think that we will oversee the investigation. Be a good way for you to get all 'Hand-y' with Somar," Nola rolls her eyes. "I am sure that he will love someone not quite out of her teen years watching over his shoulder. Especially since it hasn't been announced officially."

"He'll get over it." A security officer walks over. He nods. "I am headed to see Garm. Bring Mon over, if she feels like it. It might be easier to watch over them together."

Nola nods. She stands up. A young officer hands her the abandoned shoes. She thanks her and turns to walk behind Organa.

~+~+~+~+~+

Dani Faygan watches the man known as the Dragon of Corellia look through a glass as his son is rolled in from a bacta tank. The younger Bel Iblis's eye flash open briefly, then close. She walks over and places her hands through Draq's arms. 

She closes her eyes as she almost puts voice to a word. A word from her mother's world. 

_Abeeyah._

_Father._

She stops herself. Now was not the time to reveal that she knows his secret. That nearly thirty years ago, this man had loved her mother. A young engineer who had helped the Corellian to heal from the lingering pain of the loss of his wife, as well as his own wounds incurred in helping that world survive an outside threat.

A secret kept after threats to his family had nearly cost him this young man. A young man angry and resentful as only teenagers can be; at his perception of being abandoned.

She notices that Draq' is looking down at her. He reaches down and kisses her on the forehead.

She rests her head on his arm and watches her half-brother fight for life.


	6. Discomfort for a Peacekeeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hand of the Queen takes a General down a peg or two.

Bail Organa turns as a colorless man with short-cropped gray hair and a gray business suit marches up with military precision to him. He salutes and nods. He turns. His eyes widen as he sees the others in the room.

General Nels Somar turns to Bail. "Viceroy, I must protest. This is sensitive information. I can't be revealing this to a civilian aide and three offworlders." He nods at Draq' and Mon, who sit calmly. He ignores Nola and Dani.

"General, these two 'offworlders' as you call them have a definite interest in this, as they are the victims here. The young lady with Procurator Bel Iblis, is a trained investigator with CorSec."

"The civilian aide, as you call her, has more right to be here than you do. It will be announced within the hour. Ms. Vorrserrie is named as the Queen's Hand."

There are mixed reactions. Draq' grins broadly and winks at her. Mon Mothma smiles her congratulations.

Dani Faygan rises and walks over. She smirks as she sees Nola's panicked expression. She merely envelopes her in a hug and kisses her on the cheek. "Congratulations, my foster-sister. I am so proud of you."

Somar's sour expression identifies the 'mixed' reaction. Nola turns. She can see his eyes flash with anger. She walks over to him and does not back down. "Report." she says.

He is about to look at Bail. "General, I told you to report," Nola says, an increased level of steel in her voice.

"I am not sure, with all due respect, that we should be speaking in front of the Corellians and Senator Mothma. It is quite possible that either party might have perpetuated these crimes."

Draq' starts to rise, the 'Dragon' look coming over his face. Mon puts her hand on his arm and smiles softly. He returns to his seat.

"What is your evidence, General?" Nola says crisply. His eyes narrow. "The attackers. The one that fired on Senator Bel Iblis is a known radical on Chandrila with ties to the Senator's party." Mon and Draq' look at one another.

Somar continues. "The bomber at Senator Mothma's hotel has been identified as a retired CorSec Senior Inspector. He is a former Ranger who retired one step ahead of a Professional Standards investigation." Draq's eyes flash. 

"So, we see this as a mutual attack gone wrong," he finishes, a note of triumph in his words. 

Mothma smiles. She holds out both hands together. "Would you like to place the binders on me, now, General?" she says dryly. Nola steps closer to Somar. He involuntarily takes a step back. "So that is as far as it goes, General?"

"I see no reason to open any other lines of inquiry," he says.

"I am assuming that you received my report from Lieutenant M'Faru?" she says. 

"Yes, but I discounted it. The good Lieutenant is a competent Inspector, but he has radical ideas. Plus the fact that the source of the information has no training in observation. She probably should not have pursued the suspect." He stares challengingly at her.

Nola smiles, an approximation of another worlds's reptilian avatar. "Thank you for pointing out my mistake, General. Now it is time for you to listen." Four of the five inhabitants of the room smile in anticipation.

"Before I was fifteen years old, I had been trained in many things. I was trained to recognize assassination attempts, both covert and overt. Within a few months, I was carrying out staged attempts on my Queen's life in order to graduate. I was trained in the same techniques of protection that your protective officers are trained in. Probably more trained." She stops and gathers herself as she remembers. She plows ahead. "I was also taught that I would have to take a blaster shot, a knife, or a poison in order to save my Queen. All while being what you would term an older child."

She takes a step even closer. She looks down on him. "I was told by Senator Organa earlier that the last assassination attempt on Alderaan occurred several years ago. It was cut and dried. The victim and a young Jedi Padawan, another teenager, took care of the attacker. So when you question my fitness to make a report, remember the last time PPS investigated a major assassination attempt. You can also remember to read the medical report on the attacker. The attacker that has a grouping of blaster shots, evenly spaced, smaller than my hand on his chest."

"Your willingness to close the case so fast, tells me that the radical ideas that you detect in Lieutenant M'Faru includes the ability to keep an open mind and listen to those who were on the scene. So this is what you are going to do. You are to provide Lieutenant M'Faru with all necessary support. He will be in charge of the investigation. He will report to me or the Senator. In addition, Senior Inspector Faygan, as an interested party, whom both sides trust, will work closely with the Lieutenant." She sees Mon and Draq' acknowledging that trust, each with a nod. "If I hear one inkling of obstruction from you or anyone else, I will consider it an obstruction of the Queen's will."

Somar tries his luck anyway. Before he can begin his protest, Nola Vorrserrie adds one phrase. A phrase that even he cannot argue with.

"So says the Hand of the Queen." Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bail Organa swell with pride.

Somar is quiet. He brings his hand to his temple. "As you say, your Grace," he says stiffly. He turns and exits with the same precision he had entered with, although with less arrogance.

Dani stands and walks over to her foster-sister. She pulls her into an embrace and whispers something into her ear. 

The others are treated to a blush from the new Hand.

They are so rapt, they don't hear the door open and close again.

"Well done," comes a voice with a deep Core accent. All turn to the interloper. A tall man with dark hair gazes at them from depthless black eyes. An angry scar marks his hairline. A mouth that shows memories of wry humor quirks upwards in a smile. "It isn't very often that I see Somar so pale and jumping to someone else's tune," he finishes.

It is not his face or body that brings all in the room on edge. Nor is it his assistant, a shorter woman with her own approximation of a fierce expression.

It is the gray-green uniform that they both wear. 

"So is everybody ready for me to come in and throw my weight around?"

Dav Kolan, Alderaan sector station chief for the Imperial Security Bureau, looks at them all appraisingly. "Or can we just skip to the part where somebody confesses?"


	7. A Handmaiden's Charge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four Queens, a Senator, a Handmaiden and a Guard.

Kolan walks over and sits next to Bail. There is a brief expression of distaste on the Senator's handsome face. He quickly morphs it into his usual neutral senatorial expression.

"So, everyone. The ISB is not pleased that we have two senators that have been attacked. We are only pleased if we are the ones doing the attacking."

Nola and Dani look at one another and roll their eyes as he continues. He notices and smirks at them both. "I am particularly displeased that it has happened on my patch. My question is what are the three sovereign worlds involved, sovereign worlds who are also subject worlds of the Emperor, going to do about it? Before I and Agent Horan here, who incidentally, is a native of your charming little world, Senator, swoop in and start trampling on everything."

Dani gives a brief look at Draq'. He nods imperceptibly. She focuses her attention on Agent Horan. The young Alderaani's eyes widen as an unaccountable warmth begins to suffuse her limbs. She runs a finger around her tight collar.

Bail and Mon begin to fidget a tiny bit as well. The others in the room are used to it. Nola's face is split by a slight grin.

Kolan notices, as well. Other than a rueful shake of his head, he doesn't react. He turns to Horan. "Raisa, dear. Why don't you go and see about arranging for more fleet troopers if we need them. There is a _Venator_ due for a routine courtesy call in the next few days.

Horan's dark eyes move to him after what seems to be an eternity. She starts and nods. She turns on her heel and marches out with military precision. Military precision with a slight hitch in her step.

Dav turns to Dani. "So you've had your fun, Daaineran. To what purpose?" As she usually does when confronted with her world's gift, she paints an innocent look on her face as she examines her nails. "Felt like you were doing enough posturing without your minion's help. I needed a break."

"I could charge you with....," he starts. "With what?" she asks, a sly look on her face. "I know the Imperial Code pretty well. I haven't found a section that proscribes making an ISB agent horny."

He stares at her. She does not flinch. Finally, he turns to Bail. "Could I possibly deal with the adults in the room?" he says, with a hint of irritation on his Imperial-bland face.

"We could ask the same thing," Draq' says dryly. 

Kolan finally grins. "Point taken, Procurator." He turns to Bail as the Senator starts to speak.

"Think that I may have a solution, at least to the protection angle of the two Senators," he says. 

"I'm listening, Senator."

"Senator Mothma's aide's family has an estate near Aldera. Senator Mothma would be safe there. Our new Hand," he looks at Nola, "has some experience in protection." Her eyes flash at him. Dani takes her hand in both of her own. "She will agree that she is probably the best qualified for this."

Dav watches the interplay. He is silent as he stares at Nola. Finally, he nods. "What about Garm?"

"Corellia will look after its own," Draq' rumbles. "Not while there is an investigation of Corellia's involvement." The two men stare at one another. Dav turns to Bail. "I might have an idea for that; one that will be acceptable." He stares at the Dragon. 

"Go on," Draq' finally says. "Queen Kylantha of Naboo has offered her assistance."

None of the others in the room seem overjoyed at this suggestion. 

"She has offered Naboo as a neutral haven for Garm. Her Captain of the Guard, Hana Yung-Shaizan, who I served with in the war, will be in charge of protecting him." He sees Dani start to protest. "I heard that Senior Inspector Faygan will be the liaison with PPS, but could she be spared to oversee the protection for Corellia?"

Draq' is thoughtful. "She could for awhile. I have someone else in mind to take over."

Dav smirks. "Ahh, Inspector Covenant. Have you raised his bail money on Pantora, yet? I hear he pissed off the Chairman's family." The smirk grows sharper. "Glad to see that it is not just me he can disappoint."

His choice of words are not lost on two Corellians and one Naboo.

The older Corellian chooses not to rise to the bait. "We'll get him out. I am not sure it is a good idea to split our security of these two."

Dav nods. "I know. But I want to make sure that the two antagonists," he says as he looks at Mon, "are separated, at least until we can rule each of them out. No offense, Senator."

"None taken. I am, however, somewhat miffed that everyone seems to be deciding where I will be for the next few weeks, for me. I have a job to do. For my people on Chandrila, and for my allies in the Senate."

Bail speaks up. "Mon, this is the best alternative. What the good Agent Kolan is not saying, is that if this doesn't happen, he will take you and Garm into protective custody. I am not wanting you in the delicate hands of ISB." He smirks. "No offense."

Kolan inclines his head with his own smirk continuing. 

Mon's blue eyes flash at her old friend and ally, promising a more in-depth, and possibly, loud discussion. She refrains from speaking.

Dav stands up, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Then it is settled, for now. Bear in mind," he says with a sharp look. "I reserve the right to alter this arrangement." He turns to Nola. "I will keep the troopers off of your world, Your Grace. If you need them as extra support, I am a call away."

Nola nods tightly. Bail and Dani can both see that her mind is elsewhere. They are both certain that her mind is fixed on her homeworld.

Of a memory of looking down at the body of her Queen. A Queen whose safety she was responsible for.

She is quiet as the others leave the room. Her mind flies to the past. Of not just her Queen and her sister handmaidens, but of a young man with a pair of impossibly blue eyes.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nole´ Vorrserrie, Handmaiden of Naboo, pulls her hood up as she runs to the Palace from the small fighter that she has landed in a field near the Palace. She is able to slip past the cordons of stormtroopers with relative ease.

Stormtroopers that bear some remnants of blue markings on their armor. The 501st. Vader's Fist.

She finds herself in an entry hall. The sounds of blasterfire and screams reverberates through her consciousness. She slides to stop. Her hand lifts her blaster. She sees her life spilling on the floor.

Spilling from the body of the teenager lying on the floor, surrounded by those troopers. A body dressed in the robes of a Queen.

Her eyes move to another scene. Of her sisters. Her fellow handmaidens and members of the Royal Guard, kneeling, their hands bound. Of a large dark figure standing behind them. 

A red lightsaber is humming in his hands as his helmeted and masked figure looks at them dispassionately. She starts forward, knowing what is about to happen. The figure swings the saber. 

Her sisters and brothers fall, their bodies slashed with one swing. Nole' sees her own body slashed. She should be lying across her Queen. She starts forward. She feels herself seized from behind. She strikes out as a hand seizes her blaster hand and another covers her mouth. She lifts her knee as she is dragged away.

"No-no. Stop! It's me, Finder. Stop it, dammit!" a familiar voice says. She looks around and sees a rugged face, its light blonde beard tickling her neck. _As it has tickled other places on her body in warmer, more joyous moments._

She half-sobs as she sees the small burns, the dirt, and the blood on the face.

Finder Skon replaces his bloody hand with his lips. After a moment, they come up for air. The Captain of the Royal Guard looks into her dark eyes with his own intense blue gaze. "No-no, why did you come back? Queen Apailana sent you to tell Organa of the fugitive Jedi."

"I did, Fin. I told him. I had to get back to protect the Queen. My sisters."

"Nola, she didn't want you to come back. She wanted you to survive. To bear witness." She notices that she uses her true name; not the name given to her by a former Queen.

"Bail has granted safe passage to the Jedi survivors. He..." Skon stops her with his lips. "It's too late. They are all dead, love."

She stands straighter. "Then it is time for me to die with them," she says. "No. It isn't. I am sworn to protect not just the Queen, but her Handmaidens, as well. You are my responsibility."

He takes her in his arms. "I love you, Nola Vorrserrie. Live." As she kisses him, she feels a pinprick in her neck. "Goddammit Fin, No!"

Her last thought of him before unconsciousness claims her is his eyes looking to hers in the past, as her hands splay across his bare back and they fall from a height in their minds equivalent to the Royal Tower together; his warmth suffusing her body; his eyes locked on hers as they finish together. On a first night.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola shakes her head. She notices that her two bosses and her foster-sister have returned to the room. Both Dani and Queen Breha sit on opposite sides of her. Their arms go about her body. Bail sits across from her, his dark eyes betraying his own concern.

"Majesties, I don't think that I can do as you ask," she whispers, as she wipes the tears from her eyes. 

Breha kisses her on her cheek. "My dear, we wouldn't ask if we didn't think you could."

"My Queen, you don't understand. The last time I was asked to oversee someone's protection, they died. My Queen died." she repeats, the anguish evident in her voice.

"And you lived, Nola," Bail says simply. "Because she wanted you to."

She shakes her head. _Just like Fin said._ "Senator, my Queen, how did I come to wake up in the Palace? Who brought me here?"

Both royals look at each other, remembering the sight of two diminutive former Queens dressed as palace servants struggling to carry the length of the unconscious young woman into the chamber. Carrying her through the cleared halls of Aldera Palace. Both refusing help until she was safely in the bed.

Bail turns her look to the young woman. "It is best that you know that only two servants of Theed Palace brought you here."

Nola sets her mouth into a hard line. Dani turns her head and touches her lips with hers. Her purple eyes cut through the younger woman. Nola relaxes. "I may have drawn attention to you by saying what I said about my training to Somar. I could still be wanted."

"No, you didn't, Nola." Bail says with a steel-laced tone. "Naboo Handmaidens' family names, and proper given names are not recorded anywhere. We checked. Apailana marked you as resigned for pregnancy before the Palace was attacked."

Bail does not remark on the pained look shared between his love and their Hand. He closes his eyes before he continues. His Queen looks at him with love in her eyes. Love for all in this room, but mostly for him. She continues for him.

"You weren't real specific to Somar," she says. "He also knows that if he goes after you, he goes after the Queen. It is the reason that we resurrected the position."

She is silent. Breha rises. Bail, Nola, and Dani rise. She holds out her hand to her husband. The look that they share is one that Dani remembers from almost half a decade ago, albeit fleeting. A look that Nola had hoped to someday experience.

The look of a lifetime of love and understanding. Dani and Nola bow as the couple exit the room.

Dani takes Nola's hands in her own. "I will be a comm-call away, dear. I will help you through it any way I can." As she speaks, a feeling of comfort - nothing more - flows through Nola from the Zeltron. "I love you, my sister-of-the-heart."

Nola can only stand there as she hears the words. A phrase that Dani had never used for her before. Her eyes tear as she realizes the import of what Dani has gifted her with.


	8. Bail Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunter is freed.

Bryne Covenant looks out at the chilly landscape of his prison. He grins. _Fairly nice as prisons go, but a prison nonetheless._

The door to his room opens after a discreet knock. Teon Jinks' face breaks into its own grin. "Hello, handsome. I heard that you might be getting some visitors today."

"Oh? What now?"

"The spaceport called and said that a CorSec vessel has just landed."

"Marvelous. I will be going from one ass-in-a-sling situation, to another. This one involving family."

Jinks walks over and stands next to him. Covenant smiles at him. The staffer looks down at his expensive shoes. "So, do you think that we might get that 'dessert' that we had set up before you suddenly became a desperate character?"

Covenant turns towards him. He smiles ruefully. "I don't think so, Te. Not this trip, anyway." he says gently. Te nods; his face marked with a resigned look. "That is what I thought. Thought you might enjoy dessert with my boss, Senator Chuchi a bit more."

Covenant shakes his head. "It's not that. I am not averse to spending some time with you, Te. It is just that I don't feel right after I deceived you. Plus, some things are running through my mind right now, that I am trying to sort through. I don't think it would be good for me to be around people too much unless I work with them and have to, right now."

Teon nods. "Don't worry about the deception. You did what you had to do. Ultimately, you are trying to protect my Senator. I thank you for that." He smirks. "I'll make sure I give you a good review to Senator Chuchi. As well as your comm-code." Their shared laughter rises.

Teon grows serious. "About those thoughts going through your head. Make sure that you talk to someone about them. I saw the pain that you were in. Senator Chuchi did as well."

Bryne smirks. "Don't worry. I am quite sure that my 'therapist' is on board that CorSec ship. One or the other of them. Maybe both."

Te looks down. Bryne's eyes narrow. "What?"

"Riyo knew the name that you called. She knew her during the war. They were friends." He looks Bryne in the eye. "She looks like she mourns with you."

Bryne sits down. His eyes grow distant. Te reaches down and kisses him on the forehead. He turns as the door-chime rings. He watches for a moment as the Corellian fights the emotions playing over his face. He turns and exits the room quietly.

~+~+~+~+~+

Jinks opens the door. A very tall man stands there, looking at him through decidedly reptilian blue eyes peering from a craggy face. Next to him stands a much shorter crimson-skinned woman. Teon is floored by the warmth on her beautiful face. _This must be his therapist._

The older male looks down at the young woman. Te's eye widen at the look of respect that he gives the Zeltron. He smiles. _Not just respect. Love._

Draq' turns back to him. The mask returns, but is decidedly warmer. "Mr. Jinks." He holds out his hand. "I am Draq' Bel Iblis. This is Inspector Faygan. I understand that you have something that we have misplaced."

For an instant, Jinks notices an expression of something other than anger and reserve in the man's face, when he mentions that 'something.'

 _This must be other 'therapist,'_ he thinks. _As well as the family._

"Yes, we do, Procurator," he says. "This way, please."

He leads them down the hall. Covenant is still sitting where he had left him. He looks up, a look that Teon cannot describe on his face. He nods himself out.

Draq' watches until the door closes. He turns to his nephew. "So, Ranger. You decided to disobey my orders and get your dick in a wringer."

"I like to think that I followed the original mandate that you gave me, Uncle," Bryne says quietly.

"Oh? What's that?" he asks, even though he suspects that he knows what is coming. 

"Find the good and do it." Draq' smiles to himself as he sees Dani mouthing the words as Covenant repeats them. He hides the smile well.

"Don't give me that, boy. What the hell good do you think you were doing, getting in trouble with an allied world's ruling family?"

"The kind that prevents the flow of something that the Diktat has labeled a 'clear and present danger' to the safety and security of the people of the Five Brothers."

"We were already onto the Ranger on the ship that was probably selling secrets to the Antols," Draq' says. "We were about to arrest him a few days ago, since he escaped administrative sanction by retiring."

Something in his voice makes a questioning look flow to Covenant's face. He holds the questions. Instead, he throws his own bit of mystery into the air.

"Yeah, but did you see that there was an Imperial revenue squadron that was near every one of these escaping spice vessels, as well?" he asks.

Draq's eyes narrow. Dani smiles widely. "No," the old man admits. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah. I think that they were doing it even when the Corellian was. Added insurance."

"So what is the connection to Papanoida?"

"The docking bay that is used by the squadron is owned by a non-profit. A non-profit whose board that Ion is on."

"So? Imps confiscate or rent all the time."

"Nope. It is free and clear; no remuneration; they still have clear title."

"Any idea which nonprofit?"

"Something called Eleuthera. It has its headquarters on Chandrila."

Dani and the Dragon look at one another; their gaze troubled. Bryne picks up on it immediately. "What?"

"Just some coincidences of some things that have happened while you have been on vacation. Dani will fill you in." The Dragon looks into the distance out of the window.

He snaps back to the room. He lifts his comm. "This is Procurator Bel Iblis. Get me the Foreign Minister."

A Pantoran accented voice comes on the line. The Dragon wastes no time in living up to his reputation and namesake."You have one of mine. Release him or you can kiss that ship deal from CEC goodbye."

Dani and Bryne can hear the resignation in the reply. "Also, I need to have someone speak to Ion Papanoida. Same holds true." He smiles as a text pops on the small screen.

"You'll have to hold off on getting him fully up to speed." He turns to Dani. "One hour. Papanoida's club. For a foursome. You'll be the fourth."

Covenant's eyes widen. "Not that I am interested in defying you, again, Dragon, at least not this particular moment, but why Dani? Shouldn't I talk to him?"

"Nope. Dani is better than you at this particular, uh, activity."

_A foursome? Something that Dani is better at? What the hell?_

Draq' smirks at his expression. "As a matter of fact, she was the runner-up in the Galactic Collegiate Championships one year."

Both Dani and Draq' look at one another as Bryne's even more poleaxed expression.

Dani reaches down. "I know you want to talk about something, love. It is all over you through the resonance. We will talk." She kisses him gently for several seconds. Draq' has suddenly found something else to look at.

She nods at Draq' as she leaves. 

"Okay, Dragon. Give me the ass-chewing," Covenant says. "It is in abeyance," the Dragon says. "As it is, through pure dumb luck, you have stumbled into the periphery of something bigger. Something that there is a tiny bit of a connection to with your sticking your nose in places you shouldn't."

"I need you to go to Naboo, once we get back to Alderaan. Ostensibly to work with the Naboo Royal Guard to protect Garm."

"From who?" he asks. "Whoever tried to kill him. Dani will come back to Alderaan and help investigate both his shooting and the attempted bombing of Mon Mothma."

He watches Bryne's expression as he relates the events of the last few days. Covenant keeps his face blank as he listens.

Blank to anyone who doesn't know him. "So what else am I supposed to do, besides babysit Garm?"

"The Ranger that we were trying to prosecute on the ship you uncovered. He was killed by Nola when he tried to blow up Mon."

Covenant's own anger flashes at the thought of a CorSec officer, especially a Ranger being involved. "These were suspected Antol ships. I think that you and I might pay a visit to the Antols and see if they might be connected to the shootings."

He nods, already planning for the trip. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah. The nonprofit you mentioned. The other assassin is a part-time employee. As well as a volunteer with other political entities." Covenant absorbs this. "This is way too may coincidences for my taste. If I believed in coincidences."

"Yeah. Everybody else with a brain, which includes everybody but the Alderaani Director of Planetary Peace and Security, thinks the same thing." Draq' adds. He looks at the wheels turning in his nephew's head with something akin to pride. Then he thinks about a Pantoran Senator and what she had told him.

"Bryne," Draq' says quietly. "What happened? Chuchi told me that you had some sort of seizure."

Bryne smiles. "Nothing. Just old memories. Jedi nonsense."

Draq' nods. "You may sell that to others, boy, but I don't buy it. You forget that I knew Jedi. Including one who would kick your ass for your stubbornness."

Bryne closes his eyes. "Dragon, I am not sure what it was. Give me some time to figure it out. I promise I'll talk then."

For a moment, he thinks that Draq' will not accept this. Finally, the old man nods. "Okay, Inspector. We'll revisit this at another time. But we, or at least you and Dani will revisit this."

He stands, pulling Covenant up into a brief embrace. "Get up and get your shit together. We'll be heading for Alderaan within the hour."

He smirks at Covenant. "Greenputt," he says. 

"Huh?" 

"Dani is meeting Ion for greenputt."

"I can play greenputt."

"Yeah, but you suck at it unless you cheat and use the Force. Too bad that she isn't playing boloball. She was a hell of a forward in college."

With that, he turns and is gone.


	9. A Good Walk Spoiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thousand credits a hole in the Great Game.

Ion Papanoida watches as the young woman walks up to the tees. He feels the artificial heat wafting through on the warmed breeze of the club's environmental dome.

A dome necessary in order to indulge the son of the Chairman in a pastime that the cooler moon of Pantora does not naturally support. Even though it is much warmer than the main planet.

He sees the crimson-skinned young woman go into her stance. He had tried to correct it, all throughout the front holes. She had merely smiled and managed to hit herself to the bottom of the four competitors.

He heard a noise behind him. One of the juveniles playing with her was mocking the young woman's stance, as well as making comments about the young woman's muscular, trim legs in the short skirt.

He silences them with a look. The young woman breaks out of her stance. She walks back to them. "Let's make it interesting, 'gentlemen," she says. 

She walks further back to the competitive tees. Three sets of various combinations of eyes widen as she puts her ball down. He can hear low laughter as he looks out of the corner of his eye. Imperial credits are changing hands at a rapid pace. He sighs and pulls his own currency card out. 

Before the young woman from the Corellian Engineering Corporation goes back into her stance, she throws a currency chip in the hat in the human's hand. Ion smiles as she looks at the other three. "I'll cover," she says simply.

She returns and proceeds to go into her awkward stance. He sees a tiny smile flow to her face. His face falls as she moves slightly.

As she moves into a textbook-perfect stance. 

Her swing is a thing of beauty. The two other juveniles in the foursome are silent as the ball arcs straight to the green.

Within a hundred meters of the green. Perfectly lined up.

_This just got interesting._

An hour and a half later, they stand in the fairway of the last hole. A series of pars, one- and two-unders, as well as one ace, have brought her to within a stroke of Papanoida. The last green is within seventy-five meters.

The young woman, _Dani,_ as she had said in her bright voice, pulls her club. One of the juveniles decides to speak. "I'll bet the pot, if you can hole out from here, hon," he says, a smirk on his doughy face. His companion nods, as if a yes-chorus. _As he usually is._

They look at Ion. He looks a Dani. He smiles as he sees the look of utter confidence in her suddenly black eyes. He smiles again at her. He nods at his soon-to-be-ex-greenputt partners.

He is treated to their crestfallen expression as the ball arcs to the green and strikes a meter from the cup.

A meter that is quickly covered by a perfect roll.

~+~+~+~+~+

Ion watches as the server droid places the plate of aromatic food in front of Daaineran Faygan. He had learned her full name from the credit chip she had placed in the hat. 

His two companions had paid their share begrudgingly and then departed. She had invited him to lunch. He watches with amusement as he sees her tuck into the full plate.

He had heard of Zeltrons and their high metabolism. Especially when engaged in certain activities.

_Apparently, activities including conning a member of the ruling family and his partners out of several thousand credits._ They are finished with their meal and enjoying a drink before he learns what he has actually been conned out of.

"So you work for CEC?" he asks, sipping his drink. She smiles tightly. She wipes her mouth with her napkin and sets it down before answering. She takes a sip of her own drink. "Not exactly. I work for the Procurator-Fiscal and External," she says.

His eyes narrow. "So what kind of game is the Dragon playing now?" he asks coldly. She places her hand on his. With the other, she pulls out the now full currency chip. She places it on the table between them. "One that you started yourself, Mr. Papanoida," she says with her own hint of steel. "I will exchange all of these winnings, for information on Eleuthera and your involvement in it."

"And if I don't play?" he says, a defiant look in his eyes. 

"Then I will turn the negotiations over to the Dragon. I am sure he has already threatened your minions; there are so many threats he can make." She smirks. "He is so good at it."

His eyes fall as he contemplates his drink. He snickers. "The thing is, I am not even involved in it. Not at all. How do you know about it?"

"Came up in another investigation. A certain docking bay that has your name on it as the member of the board that is responsible for it," she replies. 

He nods with a rueful smile. "I guess I have to have my lawyers look into it. I refused to join. They wouldn't answer my questions about some irregularities in their finances."

"You have any way of proving that?"

"Didn't know I had to," he says, the anger rising in his voice and on his face. "Maybe I am done with this conversation."

"I will tell you that this is related to a criminal investigation. An investigation on several worlds." She plays another card. "ISB is involved as well."

"You need not threaten me, Officer Faygan. I don't scare easily."

The young woman smiles slightly. "It's Inspector Faygan. Senior Inspector. Look, I am not trying to threaten you. I am trying to solve problems. I think that we will mutually benefit from working to solve them together."

Ion takes a deep breath. He pulls out a datapad from his jacket. He punches something on his screen. He pushes it over. "Here are all of the records of my dealings with them. Including my notarized declination. I also demanded my contributions back when I learned that they wouldn't be addressing the improprieties."

Dani scans over them. She nods. She pushes the chip over to him. "I appreciate it, Mr. Papanoida. I really do. Lives may depend on this."

She smiles warmly at him. "This isn't the Inspector speaking. You really do not live up to your reputation as a rich, spoiled playboy."

He smiles gently. "I am trying not to be that person any more. The person I have been since the end of the war. I am trying to get back to the person that I was in the war." He looks down. "There is someone I really want to show."

Dani nods. "I think you will show them."

"She only thinks that I want to marry her for political power. Might be my father's idea, but it certainly isn't mine."

Dani rises as she calls for the check. He pushes the chip back towards her. "I got it," she says. "I did invite you."

As she finishes paying, she walks over to him and kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks for the game. I am a bit rusty."

"Woman, if that is you being rusty...," She kisses him again. "I hope that she notices, you, Ion. She might not know what she is missing."

As she walks away, Dani flashes to a beautiful Pantoran senator on a luxury liner. 

_May have to step it up there, my lad._ She smiles as she heads to meet a Dragon, a huntsman, and a fool.


	10. A Ship for Dani, A Ship for Ahsoka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape, evasion, and evacuation.

Dani Faygan, a runner-up in a galaxy-wide greenputt tournament and former star forward for the University of the Five Brothers-Coronet City Gamblers, hears blaster fire coming from the approaches to their docking bay.

Like her father, as well as a cousin, and her late heart-bond, she doesn't turn and run away at the sound.

She runs towards it. She pulls her blaster from her bag. She turns a corner, just in time to be nearly bowled over by the cousin.

Covenant carries a small package under his arm. She nearly laughs as she realizes that the flopping package is a very small slicer. Baldrick is protesting mightily. Her laughter dies as she sees several large humans in business suits pursuing Covenant and Baldrick.

She opens fire on them, but realizes that Covenant is not alone as another of the pursuers fall. 

Her heart leaps as she sees a Dragon returning fire with both his and Covenant's weapons. "So," she says, as she comes up next to him. "I see that you three just cannot be left alone for any length of time."

"Yeah, well, we had to occupy ourselves while you were having your threesome, knocking Papanoida balls around a pasture," Covenant snarks back. "For your information," she says, "it was a foursome and who said anything about greenputt?"

His snort nearly causes him to drop Baldrick. She hears a snicker as she realizes that the slicer has found a way to position his head, for an instant at Covenant's knees. A position that allows the perfect angle to look up her short skirt.

"Hey, you little ingrate!" she shouts, swatting at his head. He is about to say something when Draq' lifts him up by his collar. "Would you three cut out the comedy act out and figure a way out?" He holsters his own blaster and yanks Phygus out of Bryne's arms. "We're blocked from our ship as it is."

The three of them can see Covenant looking around. He stops and closes his eyes for only a second. His eyes snap open almost instantly. He makes a left turn. Dani and Draq' look at one another and follow him.

They make at least three more turns, so quickly that his bosses nearly lose him. Draq's blaster flies out of its holster and into Covenant's left hand. He turns a corner and opens fire.

As he runs into a smaller docking bay, his shots mark strikes on several of what appear to be the companions of the thugs chasing them. 

Thugs that seem to be guarding a teal-colored older ship. An older Republic _Consular_ -class.

Instantly, something tickles at Dani's emotional resonance. Something that is powerful, as her gift only usually acts on the emotions of others; not those of remnants. Covenant runs forward. He stops as he sees one of the turbolaser turrets start to spin towards them. The entry port begins to close.

Draq' pushes them forward. "Get under the cone of fire! Run!" he yells. Covenant stops. He begins to speak in a conversational voice. "Authorization - Croft _Aurek Vev_ 796 _Besh._ Weapons and starboard hatch override."

The whine of the turbolaser turret ceases. In the silence, the entryport re-opens as the ramp begins to extend downward.

"What the hell?" Draq' asks incredulously. He drops Baldrick, who lands on his ass. The slicer stands up and smiles. "Interlock?"

"Yep. Republic fixed it where it could override any command, even if it was no longer a Republic vessel. Takes more than your average slicer to get around it."

"So I guess you couldn't handle it, little man," Dani says. His reply is lost as the other three run up the ramp.

They make their way forward. Draq' is curious as he follows Bryne and Dani.

Bryne is lost in memories. Memories of rough, identical men laughing and singing as they lived and died.

For Dani, it is a memory of a wedding. A wedding between her cousin and his love. A memory of a respite. Of one night with the young man running without err to the bridge and the powerful young woman who had made her vaunted reputation in this ship.

A woman who had died in the skies over Coruscant, while the same young man watched helplessly on the surface.

One punch sends the cockpit watch to the deck. Draq' and Phygus busy themselves dragging him back to the entry port. Covenant slams into the pilot's seat, Dani close behind to the co-pilot's position. He runs his eyes over the controls. 

He fights the nostalgia as he realizes everything is as he remembers. He feels a warm hand on his shoulder. "Hey, handsome." His memory flies back even further, of their first meeting. "I know," she says. "But let's remember her later."

"Yeah, Dani, I know. Cold start the engines. Priming controls are there," he says, pointing above and to the rear.

He watches as she moves to the four switches for the priming system. "Wait," he says. "Don't do it from left to right. Start from middle right to left, to middle left, to right."

"Really? Do I need to hold my mouth a particular way?"

"Might help."

He hears the priming tone. "Guess you got it right," he says. He waits sixty seconds for a second tone and ignites the engines.

He sees the thugs charge in to the bay and open fire. He smirks as he reaches behind him for a small panel.

The thugs scatter as a single anti-personnel blaster swings out and fires several bursts. The ship begins to rise as Dani takes the controls.

They can hear Draq' talking to their previous ride. "Head back to Corellia. We are heading to the alternate site to babysit Garm."

Dani looks at Bryne. His eyes are distant. She reaches over and kisses his cheek. "I felt her, too, Bryne. This was her life."

He nods. "It is strange. I couldn't feel any of the Jedi who were on this ship, even briefly. Elle, Ti. Even Ahsoka. I felt Jana."

"May not be a Force thing, sweetie," she says softly. 

"It might just be love."

Phygus walks up to them. He gently interjects. "Coordinates are set for Naboo, kids."

Croft reaches up to disengage the sublight engines. Dani moves the hyperdrive lever forward. As the stars lengthen, she looks wistfully around the cockpit. 

"It is love, sweetie. I really love this ship," she says, her black eyes tearing.

Behind her, a father smiles.

~+~+~+~+~+

Riyo Chuchi steps out into the pirate ship. Her widen as she sees the fierce collection of beings standing around her. She steels herself and steps in. "Make a hole. Everybody back to work," comes a strong, clear mezzo-soprano in a Pantoran accent. The pirates move off. As they part, Riyo sees a a tall woman of her own species standing straight and gazing at her. Her beautiful, even features, features that speak of strength and snark, quirk into a warm smile. Riyo notices that her cheeks and face bear no familial tattoos.

The woman steps towards her and extends her hand. She takes the firm grip in her own. She notices the woman's darker bronze eyes gazing into her own lighter, golden ones. She shakes her head.

"Lassa Rhayme, Senator Chuchi." the pirate says. Riyo is sure that Lassa notices her eyebrows raise at the last name. The same family name as her erstwhile bodyguard and tutor in things less than respectable. She sees the woman's eyes harden. Riyo smiles disarmingly.

She does notice the woman's hand lingering for about a second longer than needed.

"Right this way, Senator. We're ready to make the transfer." Riyo turns to the younger human male. A pair of hazel eyes look out of a handsome face with a dark growth of beard. "This is the Doctor," she says.

It is the pirate's turn to raise her eyebrows at the cryptic introduction. She shakes the Doctor's hand. 

The three of them are silent with their thoughts as they walk to the medbay. The Doctor pushes past them as the door opens. He immediately goes to the med-droid and begins a low conversation.

Lassa notices that Riyo has stopped and is looking at the young woman in the bacta tank. Lassa's heart goes to her throat as she sees the tears forming; the mouth open in disbelief.

She sees Ahsoka start to rise out of the tank. Within minutes, Riyo and Lassa are assisting the Doctor and the droid in lowering the young huntress to the table. Riyo realizes that she has known Ahsoka the longest of anyone here. During those years, she had seen her in many situations. Including the most recent one of watching her eyes glaze over with abandon at the insistent movements of her own fingers in a shower on a luxury liner.

She has never seen her so still before.

She touches the cheek. One glance of her ravaged, but healing forearms is enough, as she sees the small amount of white bone still partially exposed in one of the smaller burns. 

The deepest wound. Riyo manages to keep her feet, but apparently cannot keep the expression of horror off of her face. She feels Lassa's hands take her right one between both of hers and squeeze it tightly.

Riyo's eyes soften as she sees the Doctor's eyes playing over her with an expression of resignation and sadness. "What is it, Doctor?" she asks with concern. 

He starts, as if realizing that he is not alone with the patient. His expression softens. "Nothing. It is just that I was just looking at her lying on my medbed in a coma a few months ago."

Riyo and Lassa look at one another. "Right before she got up and kicked plenty of ass to save me and a prison-full of her people."

He shakes his head. "You've done well," he says to Lassa and the med-droid. "You did exactly the right thing in getting her in the bacta without trying to pull the melted clothing off of the wounds. If you had tried that without healing a little bit, you would've probably killed her."

"As it is, she is going to be in intense pain when we do take them off of her. It will probably laugh at any sedatives or painkillers we give her."

"She might surprise you," Lassa says quietly. He smiles tightly. "Yeah. I know about her gifts. She will still need someone to help her through it. To maybe even hold her."

All three of them fall silent as a stretcher droid and a team of crewmembers from the _Sundered Heart_ walk in to take Fulcrum to the ship.

To the closest thing that she has to a family.

Dek Antilles smiles. _At least on one world._ His smile widens as he sees the expressions on the hardened pirate and the experienced politician.

_Might have a bit of one right here._


	11. Senatorial Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recognition on the birthworld of the Emperor.

Garm Bel Iblis shifts his shoulders to try to find a more comfortable position on the couch. He has been out of bacta for several days. His expression grows thunderous as he thinks of trying to call Arrianya; to let her know he was alive.

The Naboo Captain of the Guard who was apparently his minder for this rotation had assured him that his wife was being updated as to his condition.

If not his location. 

He stares balefully at the woman sitting calmly across from him reading a holozine. Her dark eyes lock on his.

She does not shirk from the baleful gaze. Instead, she rolls her eyes. She moves her hand through her dark bob of hair with the blue streaks at the front.

_So much for the Bel Iblis and Blackthorn charm._

He looks away and stares at the beautiful lake. He wasn't sure who owned the estate in this bucolic beauty. He had heard that it was a distant kinswoman of that meddling fixer, Nola Vorrserrie. It was well stocked with provisions. He would want for nothing.

It was also well-stocked with a mixture of hand-picked CorSec Rangers, Naboo Royal Guards, and one surly ISB agent.

Another whose resolve that the vaunted family charm had not dented.

He wanted for nothing. Except for the ability to be alone more than the time he spent in the 'fresher. Even then an obsequious FX medical assistant attended.

He shakes his head of thoughts of his predicament and turns them to his last conversations before the blaster bolt went through his chest above his left lung. Conversations with his wife and father.

Both had ended in anger and vitriol.

Both were grounded in dealings with the growing oppression of the Empire. His wife apparently not interested in the threat to liberty; only to order and her family's lucrative mining fiefdom. His father passionately interested in liberty, but influenced by the work-within-the-system mindset of Mon Mothma.

He grits his teeth as he remembers the argument with Mon that had raised this feud. Mon had lectured him on the need to go slow. To be cautious; that they didn't have the resources to fight the Empire.

The time was never more ripe as Tarkin and other Moffs were still working to consolidate the Emperor's hold on the Outer Rim. The time was ripe to strike.

His anger at Mon at that conclave; his passionate insistence to strike had cost him dearly. Bail Organa had looked at him with exasperation as he had moved Mon away from him. Garm knows that Bail has been building a movement throughout the stars. A movement that might take root and eventually grow. A movement fostered and nurtured by a shadowy operative and a collection of cells and networks.

An operative so deep in the shadows that he has only heard a brief mention of a code name.

_Fulcrum._

Garm sighs. His dispute with Mon had led to him being kept from any more than scraps of knowledge. Scraps doled out mostly by his father.

A father who had looked at him with the same anger that Bail had. An anger tempered with sadness. Sadness at their own arguments. 

Sadness marked by something else as well. 

The pride of a father who sees his son standing up for his beliefs; even at great cost; even when those principles are at odds with his own.

Garm looks out at the window, again. _No,_ he thinks. _Not at odds with the principles. Just how to express and implement them._

He sees the Captain rise from her seat. Her hand rests on her heavy blaster pistol. He sees her eyes and body tense as the sound of a landspeeder traveling down the lane reaches her ears. She holds her hand up to the earpiece and nods slightly at the unseen voice. She visibly relaxes.

"Looks like I get a little relief from having you glare at me, Senator," she says. He stands. "Well, if you would let me walk outside without holding my hand, I might stop glaring at you."

"You haven't exactly proven yourself a willing principal for me, either," she says in her slightly accented voice.

She removes her hand from her blaster and picks up a short staff. She holds it in a loose grip as she walks past him. She stops when she reaches him. He realizes that she is only a few inches shorter than him

"Your family is here," she says quietly. "Maybe they can deal with you. I'll be outside on the perimeter."

Garm Bel Iblis watches the guard captain exit the room. He curses as he thinks of more arguments about to occur.

~+~+~+~+~+

Hana Yung-Shaizan, Captain of the Queen's Royal Guard walks out of the room filled with Garm's angst and pain.

She opens herself to the light in the solarium. She looks around at the beauty of the room and for about the thousandth time, wonders at the strangeness of her life. 

Humble beginnings in this very province. A chance, based on her skill and accomplishments to become a Judicial officer and pilot. To rise to fighter group command in the Republic Navy.

Of her brief time in the Imperial Navy, before realizing that she could not serve the Emperor as she had the Republic. Her face falls as she remembers her dead. The thousands of dead clones. Of fellow naval officers. Including the woman who had plucked her up from other officers and made her. A young captain who had chosen her for that first group command.

She shakes her head; willing the memories to fade. _There are others with more grief than she,_ remembering a broken Lothali with a sarcastic streak a mile wide. A man now serving that same New Order that she could not.

Hana starts as she realizes that another presence is in the room. She turns to see a man of average height standing in the doorway. His green eyes stare into hers.

Green eyes that start with recognition. She sees the eyes calm. She knows that her own eyes have widened with the same sensation.

Her mind flies back to the battle of Coruscant. Of a warm, drawling voice in the cockpit of a Y-Wing bomber, leading the ground counterattack's fighter and bomber cover.

Of seeing these eyes, looking out from their bearded visage as their owner gives her command of all of the groups, while he goes to rescue another of his kind on the surface.

She comes back to the presence as she notes the differences. Differences that have flowed to his regular features since she had looked away. A vague, indistinctness to his face.

Other differences were already there. Instead of the long, shaggy mass of light and dark hair and beard, short-cropped gray hair covers his head. The beard is gone, as well, except for growth around his mouth.

A mouth now quirking upward in a crooked grin as he extends his hand. "Bryne Covenant. CorSec. I am your replacement babysitter." She manages to transfer her staff to her left hand and grasp the offered hand. 

"Hana Yung-Shaizan," she manages to get out. "I've changed his diapers for you."

The mouth quirks even more upward. "Good to know." She takes the moment to look him up and down. He is clad in Mando-style armor, mostly forest green with gold highlights. She starts at the orange and black handprint that is depicted on the breastplate over his heart. The lines and whorls present tell her that the owner of the hand had placed it there.

A purple silk ribbon circles the middle abdomen of the breastplate. A ribbon tied in a particular knot. A black leather coat over the armor completes the look.

She notices that he is looking her over as well. She is suddenly self-conscious of her fatigue pants and tank top, rather than her Guard Captain's uniform. The memory of that naval officer wearing a similar outfit, rather than her duty uniform on the bridge of the Stardestroyer comes to her mind.

She suddenly has a desire to get out of his presence, as the import of his past occupation is true.

His kind are not exactly welcome in the galaxy these days. Especially with the New Order that she had fled from.

She nods and turns from the room.

She doesn't see his own fear and pain on his face. 

~+~+~+~+~+

Draq' Bel Iblis watches as his daughter walks around the ship. He feels a small presence walking up next to him. "I've never seen her like this, Dragon," Phygus says, his eyes wide.

The Procurator smiles, his eyes tinged by sadness, but with warmth, as well. "I think that she feels Bryne's connection to this ship. Brings back some memories for her, as well." He turns to the slicer. "This is the ship that made him what he is today. It is also the ship in which he rescued her heart bond with early in the war."

He shakes his head. "What did you find out?"

"The party barge version of the ship was bought at auction. A certain businessman named Malaky picked it up. At least after going through fifteen layers of shell and holding companies."

The Dragon's eyebrows raise. "He is almost a legend. Nobody has ever really seen him. All of the news holos are pretty shadowy."

"Yeah, but the legend is pretty dark. Lot of slavery and illegal, harmful spice chapters in the legend. Think he could give our boy Palps a run for his money."

"You find anything in the ship's mainframe? Nav logs?"

"Nope. All wiped. The only thing of note that I found was in the comm logs. A lot of communication with a certain restaurant here in Naboo."

Draq' gives the Dragon smile. "Let me guess. A restaurant in Theed that is known for its shitty food and surly service."

"Yep. The Antols."

Draq' watches Dani's rapt expression as she stops. He notices a faded hull number on the bow, under the cockpit. The numbers '667' can just be made out. He comes to a decision. "Phygus, do me a favor." 

"Anything, Dragon," the slicer says. 

"Contact the Legate-Internal. Have Colum start condemnation proceedings on this boat."

"On what grounds?"

"I am sure he can think of something. It was used in an assault on Corellian officers. You can also give him those comm logs to the Antols, as well. Corellia has had enough of a problem with them. Let's see if anyone rises to the gauntlet being thrown down."

"It will be done, O mighty one."


	12. The Joy of Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More memories. More connections to the past.
> 
> A caretaker and her fool sample the local cuisine.

Covenant stands on the balcony, the cool air wafting over his face. He knows that he has to go meet with Garm; Draq' and Dani both want him to try to reason with him.

_Either that or Force-choke the ever-loving shit out of him. I am not sure which they want._

He is about to turn when he feels a presence behind him. He hears a name that he does not hear very often.

Since the name died. Never again with the title that accompanies the name.

"General Croft."

The soft, lightly accented voice cuts through him. A reminder again that he cannot escape his past.

He forces himself not to react. After a moment, he turns. "I think you have mistaken me for someone else," he says quietly.

A smile flows over her lips. "I don't think so, General. Your face has changed, but I have been on the receiving end of those eyes. Even if was just for a few minutes."

Covenant's mind travels to the smoky haze over the assault ship that served as a fueling station for the ships defending Coruscant. The soft hooting of a young Wookiee climbing into the turret as they prepared to go save a brother and a sister in the underlevels of the city.

He feels a warm hand on his arm. "Don't worry, General. You are safe with me. There is a reason I am not in the Navy anymore."

He nods. "Please stop calling me that," he says quietly, his eyes opening. "I haven't been a General since before the war ended."

"Really?" she says.

"Yeah. I left that life just before Empire Day. Or it left me."

She nods, her eyes understanding. "Jana told me about you. About how the trial of that young woman affected you."

She sees the pain in his eyes.

"She--," he starts, then falls silent. "Fat lot of good my empty gestures did that young woman. It only extended her life for less than a year."

Hana is not sure who he means.

Her hand moves up to his chest. "Jana told me what you meant to her. How you had kept each other sane on that little ship. She told me what that young girl meant to her, as well, even though they only met once."

Her eyes close and she looks away for a moment, gathering herself. "I miss her," she says. "Jana was a good friend. She took a chance on me and another pilot. Got us slots as CAGs when no one else would take a chance on us."

"She was like that," he says with a smile. "Who was the other CAG?"

"A man named Dav Kolan," she says. She is looking down as she says this. She doesn't see his eyes flash. 

"So what happened to you?" she asks. She looks at him and adds, "Bryne."

He is silent for a moment. He smiles ruefully. "I died a couple of times."

She doesn't rise to the riposte. He touches the handprint on his armor. She is sure that it has something to do with those deaths. 

She allows him his silence, just as he has allowed hers. "What did you do?" she asks quietly.

"Everything but keep school. I was a cook, a bartender, and a bouncer. Made good money at some other odd jobs and gave it all away as fast as I could." He looks into her dark eyes. "What about you, Hana? What did you do to survive?"

"Left the Navy as quickly as I could after the Republic died." It is her turn to smile ruefully. "If I hadn't, I would have probably been put up against a wall and shot. We didn't see eye-to-eye."

"Lot of that going around." His eyes grow hard. "But you find yourself working for an Imperial sympathizer." 

Her eyes flash. "Don't believe everything you see on the fucking holonet, _Inspector._ " she says with an edge to her voice. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. She calms, and smiles ruefully.

"So where does the other name come from?" he asks, his eyes crinkling.

"My husband. Fantos Shaizan. Big mistake." He doesn't push. "He was handsome. Has a smooth way about him. Sort of like I hear a certain Corellian Jedi was."

"I wouldn't know anything about that. Sounds like a real asshole."

"Fantos is. Croft was not." she says simply. "My husband wasn't the man that I thought. Especially since he got into politics."

"Could be a root cause," Covenant says with a grin.

"Yes," she answers. "He had already made several fortunes in the financial world. Bought him into political circles on Naboo and Chandrila."

At the mention of the last world, Covenant's eyes narrow. "What does he do?"

"He was an advisor to several politicians. Including the Chandrilan Head of State. Ton Malat."

"You use the past tense a lot."

She laughs. "Don't know where he's at. All I know is, he is elsewhere, right now."

They both fall silent, thinking about the past. She takes his hand in hers, as they both remember.

As they remember the past and try to look to the future.

"Isn't this just wonderful?" A drawling voice from the door cuts through their memories. "Here I am waiting on the ass chewing and angst from a Dragon wannabe that I see coming up the lane; waiting to have to chew his ass right back and I find him holding hands with my babysitter."

Garm Bel Iblis stands in the door, leaning on the frame. "Hurry up, before I lose interest, cousin."

_Now I know why the Dragon insisted I come here, instead of working any other angles. Guess I get to practice the Force-choke after all._

~+~+~+~+~+

Phygus Baldrick's eyes play over multiple screens at once as he searches for more dirt on a family. A family that has threatened his adopted world on at least one occasion. 

A threat now neutralized, for now. He smiles as he remembers the sight of the Procurator-Fiscal and External, wielding a heavy nightstick. An old-fashioned stick of weighted wood, rather than any type of stun-stick. The kind with the thong to secure it on the wielder's wrist. 

A nightstick that connected with the jaw of the Antol twin on Corellia. Several times, as the twin fought a newly minted young apprentice constable.

Not that the apprentice would admit that she needed assistance. Her blaster had been knocked out of her hand. The thug had managed to cut her arm with his vibroblade, even after she had kneed him in the family jewels.

The twin now rests in a Corellian prison. His reconstructed jaw not exactly working right. The young apprentice constable sits in the booth across from him. Older, wiser, with more rank; the wound on her arm merely the first of many scars that she bears on her crimson skin.

The first of many that she bears on what is probably the biggest heart in the galaxy. She notices him looking at her. She grins. "What? Is my shirt unbuttoned too far or something?"

"Never for me, darling," he says, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah. I forgot that you have a high tolerance for seeing a woman's breasts on display," she replies, her own twinkle present. 

His eyes grow somber. "Is Bryne alright? I heard about his seizure."

"I think so. He was making time with the Naboo Royal Guard Captain, last I heard from the Dragon," Dani says. Her light response to Baldrick belies the worry in her eyes. 

"I guess he got over the Pantoran Senator's chief of staff." Their shared laughter is only fleeting as they think of his pain. Of their own. Phygus sighs. He sends the dark thoughts away. "Speaking of Pantoran Senators, did you get far with Senator Chuchi?"

"A little bit. We were a bit busy. We will schedule some 'training sessions,' soon," she says. 

"Will there be video?"

"Not that you could handle, little man. However, if you stop making suggestive comments, I will introduce you to her slicer. Very cute. You might have a few things in common."

"Like what? Devilish good looks?"

"Besides the obvious slicing skills? Painful social ineptitude." 

"Too bad. I make it a point not to date other slicers."

"Why is that?"

"They can do things on the holonet that might get freaky."

"Speaking of slicing, have you found anything in Eleuthera?"

"Well, a Chandrilan security officer went by their headquarters for a discreet look around. Found nothing there. The commcode goes to a remote voicemail. A voicemail that is not on Chandrila."

"How'd you manage to get a peaceforcer to do anything?"

"Forged your code cylinder ID on the request. Counterforged by the Dragon's."

Her expression grows dark; her eyes transitioning to black. For reasons other than he would rather engender in her. "Did you happen to find out where the voicemail is?"

"Why yes, my beautiful Senior Inspector of the firm breasts. It is somewhere within ten meters of this room. If you can keep your hands off of me long enough, I can narrow it down within a meter."

She bites back a reply to this. "I'll try and restrain myself. See if you can slice..."

"Are you two going to order anything besides water? We could use this table."

The question comes from a very large human dressed in an expensive, shiny suit. His coat is unbuttoned; Dani can see the bulge under his left arm. He does not have the 'waitstaff' vibe.

She looks around incredulously at the empty restaurant. _Or at least near-empty._ Another table of large, well-dressed humans with dark hair and dark eyes is located in the rear. They eye her and Baldrick with less-than-hospitable eyes.

The thug standing over them smirks at Dani. "What are you doing with him, dear?" he asks with smooth tone. Or at least passes for a smooth tone in the Antol Family Restaurant. "A man his size can't possibly satisfy a woman like you." His tone and expression turns nasty. "Especially a Zeltron who has so obviously been well-pumped already."

Phygus starts to get up. Dani touches his hand. She smiles. Phygus starts to feel a warmth through his body. Not arousal, but pure joy. 

_Well, a little bit of arousal._

The joy of battle. Especially one with the prospect of a fight with a collection of scum and villainy.

She does not rise to the riposte. She touches her ringed belt buckle nonchalantly. Phygus smiles at the gift from Nola. A gift complete with accessories. _Everything a girl needs._

Including two Mandalorian punch-daggers. She takes Phygus's hand in hers. "I used to think that about my little buddy. Until one day he came into my office, looked at me, and licked his eyebrow." The eyebrows raise in surprise, as she continues, "I knew it was meant to be." She smiles a smile that recalls another, more reptilian member of her organization. "Just remember, the size of the body isn't always indicative." She looks the thug up and down, centering on his middle.

It takes a second for it to compute, but the thug's eyes flash with anger. Phygus sighs and lifts up his datapads as the table overturns.


	13. Idiots Both Senatorial and Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Queen sharpens the definition of 'idiot' for a Senator.

Mon Mothma's rare laughter penetrates the small dining room; its lightness wafting through the air with the aromas of food. Breha takes a sip of her wine, as she watches the Chandrilan.

"Your husband's report on working with Jar Jar Binks to get the relief supplies through Toydarian territory, was one of the funniest things I had ever seen. He was so dry and I thought that his eyebrow was going to break, it was going so high into his hairline. Jar Jar's report was seriously taxing his ability to keep from laughing." She looks off into the distance. "Bail would never laugh at him; or anyone; but he can find humor in just about anything."

Breha smiles, her own eyes wistful. Mon's eye twinkle as she sees her friend's skin flush at a thought. _I once knew thoughts like that. It has been awhile. Maybe it is time to renew old acquaintances._

She shakes her head ruefully as certain warmths intrude into her memories. Warmths as well as regrets. _Come on, dammit. You're thinking like you are ancient and decrepit; that your best years have passed you by. You're thirty-two years old, not some old bag._

She is blind to the fact that Breha is now watching the play of emotions over the younger woman's face. She knows exactly what is running through the Senator's mind.

"Mon, when this is over, why don't you take some time off? Go find that person who is bringing those thoughts to your face and go away for a bit?"

Mon's face grows still. She takes her own sip of her aide's vintage. "Because I can't. This whole thing is making me lose time. Time sitting here is time I could be working to build more alliances in the Senate. Working to combat Palpatine's most egregious excesses." She looks down. For a moment, Breha thinks that her friend is going to let the emotions overwhelm her.

The emotions of the enormity of what they are trying to do. She tries to direct the conversation elsewhere.

"So where is Binks? I haven't heard anything about him in several years." The emotional look continues on the younger woman's face. After a moment, she speaks. "No one knows where he is. Padme's death hit him hard. I think coupled with the fact that he felt responsible for being used to introduce the measure for more power for the Chancellor, may have sent him into hiding. It is hard to show your face when everyone thinks that you are a patsy at best; an idiot at worst."

Breha's own dark eyes grow pensive. "I didn't know him well. He always seemed so earnest. Bail said he never knew anyone who could stumble into a pile of poodoo and suddenly come up covered in gold like he could."

Mon looks directly into the Queen's eyes. "Maybe he wasn't the only idiot. Maybe we were all idiots. Maybe Palpatine is the only smart one out there."

"Mon....," Breha starts. "No, Breha. We let ourselves get further and further into a hole. We created an entire race of beings to fight our wars for us. To die. We bred loyalty into them. We signed off on every bit of power grab that Palpatine threw at us. All the while buying his false humility and piety."

Breha takes Mon's hand in hers as the woman pauses to shift her wounded back to a more comfortable position. She brings the pale hand to her lips. Mon does not rise to the affection. "I think I am slightly wrong. Padme' was the only real smart one among us. She fought more than anyone. She pushed us all to be better."

The Queen releases the Senator's hand. She picks up her glass and takes several sips of the spicy wine, until she has drained it. "But even while she was fighting and pushing relentlessly," Mon says, "she was dealing some incredible sadness towards the end. Something I could never put my finger on. She was hiding something."

Breha suddenly wishes that she had not drained her wine; that she had something to put to her face to hide her expression. _Please tell me she doesn't know._ She shakes the thought from her mind; lest her face betrays everything.

"Mon, I am going to say something you might not like," she forges ahead. "You need to shake the self-pity." The words hang there between them, heavy in the air. "You are calling everyone that has ever fought; that ever voted against Palpatine's machinations, idiots. I think that you need to take a step back and think about what you have said."

"These people did what they could. They may not have been able to defeat him, but they fought. They fought the best way that they could, with every tool at their disposal. Did you think that the Committee of 2000 were idiots?" She stops for a moment as she sees the impact her words are having on the Senator's usually calm and expressionless face. "None of us are perfect. It is what makes us who we are. If we were perfect, then we probably wouldn't be able to keep getting up when that man knocks us down."

She relents; takes up Mon's hands in hers again. She squeezes them. "We may all be idiots, but idiots like us will turn the galaxy on its head. Idiots like us will restore peace and liberty in the galaxy."

"Idiots like us, who don't know when to quit. Who don't know when to stay down when he and his thugs knock us down."

"And yes, idiots like Garm Bel Iblis." Mon's eyes flash with anger at the mention of the name. Breha steels herself and continues. "Yes, he is contentious. Yes, he may want to move too fast and start a shooting war."

"But we need him. Just as much as we need you, pushing us to work within the system. To work within the rule of law. This contentiousness, these disagreements, they are a part of what makes us different. Different from the Emperor and his ilk."

"Do I think that you and he are the most bull-headed people I know? Why yes, I do. Just as I am sometimes ready to strangle my husband when he gets stubborn." Mon laughs at this.

"The debate is healthy. But you and Garm do need to let go and actually think about each other's point of view. There will be times that we will be able to act; that we can no longer debate; we can no longer work within the system. Garm's value is that he can help you see that."

"Your value is that you can see when we need to take a step back." She smirks. "My idiot husband has the value of helping you come to these decisions." She blinks the tears away. She chokes as she tries to continue. As she thinks of the risk to all of them.

A risk that she is about see first hand. As if on cue, the door opens. Riyo Chuchi steps in. Mon's eyes light up with genuine pleasure. She rises. "Senator Chuchi! Riyo!" She embraces the smaller woman tightly. "I was so glad to see you ready to take a more active role."

Riyo smiles. "Thank you, Senator," she says quietly. "I am here because of your example. I have so admired your stances in the Senate. I felt like it was time for me to step up more."

Breha smiles as she sees the look on the Chandrilan's face. She notices the tears in Riyo's eyes. Her own emotions start to come to the surface. "They're about to start. Nola is with her." She looks down. "I can't watch this."

Mon embraces her again. She looks at Breha. "There is a young woman in a restricted wing of a medcenter," the Queen says. "Another of those idiots. A child who fought and lost everything. She got back up, even when she had lost everything and risks more every day than we do. Because she believes in the same things that you and Garm believe."

Breha touches Riyo's hair. She continues to look at Mon. "There is another young woman. A relation of that young woman we spoke of earlier. She will be holding that other idiot in her arms; fighting her own fears while watching her friend, her responsibility, scream with pain as they take items of clothing off of her burned skin." She pulls Riyo around into her arms. "I will go, Riyo. You have been so brave, watching your friend suffer longer than any of us. Stay here with Mon. I will be there for Nola and Fulcrum."

She turns and leaves. Mon thinks of the young women of Breha's description. She thinks of Garm Bel Iblis. She smiles as a warmth in her center intrudes as she thinks of another Corellian.

Another idiot.


	14. Consequences Both Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Senator is instructed on sacrifice by one who will have to bear it. One of those who have sacrificed continues to heal, with help from a Fixer, a Doctor, and a Queen.

Garm Bel Iblis stands with his arms folded, looking at his new-found cousin through narrowed eyes. Covenant looks at him mildly. He gently releases Hana's hand. The Naboo is struck by his calmness. When she had known him in his previous life, he had seemed a ball of controlled snark and energy, with a tiny bit of the vaunted Jedi serenity.

The snark and humor is still there. But it is tempered, as if the blade had been rested in a fire for years and then plunged into a cooling pool. For the first time, she looks down to his hands. There, on the marriage finger, rests a ring forged of the same durable metal as his armor. She can just see the orange and black filigreed inset in the center.

The story is somewhere in the depths of those green eyes; now looking on the Senator with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

He lets Garm speak first. To continue the trend of allowing him to dig a deeper hole.

"You know, I am tired of my father trying to run my life. I am the chosen Senator of the Five Brothers. Slightly higher in the pecking order than even the great Dragon of Corellia. Much higher in the pecking order than a jumped up cop with grief issues."

Hana is amazed at Covenant's calm. She doesn't wait for the riposte very long, however. "Garm, it is a pity that you didn't get Draq's charm and ability to keep his mouth shut when he needed to, rather than letting another brain do his talking for him." A tight smile flows to his features. "Of course, it seems to be me that draws out his ability to say things that he regrets."

For a brief moment, she sees a slight smile play over Garm's similar features. It vanishes quickly. "You can tell the Dragon that I am my own man. If I find that Mothma had something to do with this, Chandrila will pay for it. I don't care what it does to Bail's little social club." 

Covenant looks at Hana. "Could you excuse us, Captain? The Senator and I apparently have some 'daddy' issues to resolve."

Hana looks disappointed. "Should I call a medical droid?" she asks with amusement. "No. I don't think it will quite come to that," he replies, his own amusement evident. Garm is struck by the easy familiarity between the two. He watches as the Captain leaves the room.

"Well, I see that you do have the Blackthorn charm, cousin," Garm says with amusement. "That has to be a record."

Covenant ignores the sally. "We knew each other in the war," is his only response. Garm falls silent. "Well, let us continue with the butt-sniffing and humping of legs, Inspector. I mean what I say."

Covenant closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I don't know Garm. I don't know if I am the right person to be the peacemaker any more. I have less tolerance for dealing with idiots who sit on their ass back in comfort fighting about little petty things while others are prepared to give everything for what they believe in." Garm's eyes flash with anger. "Do you think that I, a Bel Iblis and a Blackthorn would 'sit on my ass' as you call it while there is fighting to be done?" 

"Don't know," is all that the warrior says. "I hope that you don't have to fight, Garm," he adds quietly. "I hope that no more of my loved ones have to fight and bleed."

The quiet words silence the Senator. He looks into his cousin's eyes. There is no expression. No demand for pity. Merely resolve. Resolve born of pain and grief.

"What about you, Bryne? Why should you have to shed your blood anymore?" he asks gently.

The warrior is quiet again. "Don't know anything else, Garm. I can't even remember a time when all I wanted to be was a Consular. An academic." 

He stops and centers himself. Garm watches him as he almost physically shoves the memories in their compartment. "All that I know is, Garm, is that your little dispute with Mothma is in danger of tearing the movement apart. You and she need to figure out a way to solve your differences. For those of us who are going to die for you and these little ideas. Either you or the ones fighting beside us."

"I don't know that I can drop this, Bryne," the Senator says. "I sat on the sidelines and watched in the last war. I cannot sit and wait for us to get stronger to fight this evil. We have to strike now and keep striking."

"Spoken as a man who will be sitting on the sidelines," Bryne says, his eyes hard. "Speaking as the guy who will be in the middle of the shit, along with a young woman who is about all that I have left, I would prefer that we are ready to fight. It may take a while, even as long as a decade or more. But we cannot go off half-cocked. All of that maneuvering that Mon and others are doing in the Senate will buy us time to build." Garm sees the spark that he has known.

"So, either sit down and shut up, or resign from the Senate and come fight with me." Covenant says with an edge to his voice. 

"Well said." Another voice comes into the struggle. Draq' Bel Iblis stands in the door with Hana Yung-Shaizan. Garm walks slowly over and embraces his father. "No matter how big of an asshole that you are; know that I am proud of you, Garm," the Dragon says. He turns to Bryne. "You too, Inspector."

"There is plenty of asshole to go around in this family," Bryne says. Draq' nods. "You ready to stretch your legs a bit?"

"What have you got in mind, Uncle?" he asks. 

"I thought we would go have lunch. Be prepared, though. The food is horrible and the service is terrible."

Bryne smiles and looks at Hana. "Want a break from diaper changing?" Garm's eyes narrow. She smiles as well. "You are such a romantic, Inspector. Treating a girl to shitty food. At least there might be some head-breaking at the end of it."

Garm watches as they leave. He is thoughtful as he contemplates what was said. He thinks about sacrifices. Unaccountably, his mind travels back to just after his speech in the Senate. At the dawn of the conflagration. He thinks of a tiny Togruta youngling. One that he had seen recognition on her face; of a Padawan. The young man who had just left to fight again.

Of the power and potential in the young woman. The love and respect on her face for the one that she recognized.

Idly, he wonders if she is alive. His face grows sad as he comes to the realization that she most probably died with the rest of her kind.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola steels herself as she holds her friend's body against her. The young woman screams as Dek Antilles, a man without a name on his world, gently tugs at pieces of leather and plastic melted to her arms.

The healing nerve endings scream with her at the sensations. Dek had administered as much pain medicine as he could, as the young woman had slipped further into a fugue state.

A state enabled by the power that she is able to touch, as her birthright. 

Tears spill down Nola's face. Her mouth is set as she tries to stifle the sobs that beg to escape.

Ahsoka pauses in her screams as Dek finishes with one arm. Nola can see that the arm, now fully exposed, is healing. The burns are disappearing; according to Dek, she will recover with no ill effects, given modern medical technology. She can already see the white markings forming again under the scars.

She notices that the markings are in a slightly different pattern than before. Markings that are part of her genetic makeup as a huntress, after thousands of years of surviving on a world marked by brightly colored landscape. The markings seem to have grown a bit. 

She remembers a more intimate moment, in the rare times of respite and light, of exploring those markings in different places on her body. Of the young huntress telling her that as she grew older, the markings would cover more.

Nola's tears continue to fall as she thinks of the chance of those markings being able to grow. Dek catches her eye. He nods and picks up an extractor. He picks up Ahsoka's other arm and begins to work. The young woman would spend another three weeks in high intensity, rich bacta to finish her healing.

Nola can only hope that her mind will heal as well. For an instant the huntress's brilliant blue eyes snap open and stare into Nola's dark windows. A slight smile creases Ahsoka's face and one eye closes in a wink before they grow unfocused and both close.

She feels a pair of strong arms encircle her middle, holding her as she holds the warrior. She feels Queen Breha's presence, her dark eyes sad. Breha is silent as the screams rise again. She places her lips on her Hand's neck as they hold against the storm.


	15. The Stornan Marching and Chowder Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posturing and blowing things up on a forgotten world.

Tehlen Skirata shoves her smaller body against the bulk of the angry Null. "Get out of my way, Tehlen," he yells. "I am going to tear him in halves."

The subject of the anger rests his hand on the blaster slung from his shoulder as he sees the young woman being pushed towards him.

One other Mando who could probably stop the threat to Gege Merrik, stands off to the side. Fenn Shy'sa watches the proceedings with amusement.

Amusement and a definite appreciation for the young woman's power as she tries to prevent further bloodshed. _Cabur,_ he thinks.

The object of his appreciation is not amused. "You know, you could help, Shysa." She deliberately leaves the pause out of the name. "Especially if you ever want me to open my legs again in your lifetime, old man."

Fenn looks at Drop. "Could you back off there a little bit, bud? Just a tiny bit for your new dad?"

Drop finally stops as his own daughter walks over and puts her hand on his arm. Tehlen takes the opportunity to look in amazement from one Mando to the other. She sees the smirk crease the Null's face. Her expression grows thunderous. 

"Thanks, Mom," he says. 

"Much as I am loving watching who the Shysas accept as their sons and mates, we still have the problem at hand," Merrik says. "What to do with this woman." He points at the blonde woman tied to a chair pointedly ignoring the by-play. "I personally think that she should strangle at the end of a rope in front of her _riduur_ ," he says.

"Yeah, and then we have no bargaining chip, asshole." Drop says. "There is a reason I call you idiot _Aurek_. You are truly first among idiots."

"You're about five minutes away from getting your ass thrown off this planet, bud," Merrik says.

"Merrik, shut up!" comes a voice from the rear of the room. Another blonde woman's icy eyes stare at him in disgust. Unlike Merrik, she wears no armor. _Of course,_ Tehlen thinks, _Kryze._

The power emanating from the diminutive woman reinforces her lack of need for symbols of power. Jan t'Kryze takes a step closer to the tableau. "This is not helping. We need to come together with strategy to at least figure out a way to one, defeat the Wrens, and two, figure out how we are going to placate the Empire when they return."

"That ship might've sailed with your precious Fulcrum and her nearly bringing down the Imperial ship."

"What did you expect her to do, Merrik? Let the cruiser bring the settlement down around your ears? Think." Tehlen says.

"I am not sure that we need to hear from someone who failed at her job as gloriously as you, Skirata." He gives a cry as his head snaps back. He finds himself on the ground. His right hand moves to lift the blaster up.

He finds himself staring at the blaster held steadily in the right hand of the True _Mand'alor._ "Laddie. Don't you think that you might want to be rephrasing that?"

Tehlen rolls her eyes. "Thanks for the show of testosterone, dear." She moves over to stand next to him. She kisses him on the cheek. "I might pry them open a little bit." She looks down at Merrik and extends her hand to pull him up. "I have agreed, at the request of Clan Kryze, to stay on as protector until Fulcrum can recover and come to our aid. I will then move on with Fenn and his protectors."

Merrik doesn't let up. "Oh, so you are a lapdog of those appeasers and pacifists?"

t'Kryze is suddenly within a hairsbreadth of him. "You need to stop talking. If you can't then you will need to leave. I think that I can get the other clans to agree to what we need to do. Moreso than you can, useless."

He looks around him. The eyes of the interlopers, including the small child are on him. There is no warmth there. He looks at the tall woman in full _beskar'gam_ who stands near Jan t'Kryze. He can feel the contempt from her, without even seeing her unknown face. Without a word, he turns and leaves.

Tehlen shakes her head sadly. Jan smiles simply. "I know. We are going to need him, dear. Or at least his clan."

Tehlen turns to them all. "I guess we might need to focus on the Wrens. If we can take them out of the picture, we can maybe unite the clans to helps calm the Imps down."

"They are weakened. The thing is, we broke off our attack after the explosion. My OPs have not seen any movement from where we attacked. We don't actually know where they are," Fenn says.

There is a snort from behind. "And you won't, either, Shysa," Lucre says from her seat. A yelp is heard as the tall, helmeted warrior almost nonchalantly backhands her. "Quiet, dear," the modulated voice says. "You might get hurt."

Tehlen and Shy'sa look at one another. "Nice to know there is actually somebody in there," Tehlen says drily, "although we agreed from the start that buckets would be removed in the meetings."

"I didn't agree to it," the figure says simply. "I can be very persuasive," she continues. "I do have some experience with Death Watch. I might be able to loosen a tongue." The faceless T-visor turns to Lucre. "It may even still be attached after I am through."

Drop slaps his hands together. "Okaaaay. That is settled. _Besh's_ minion can take Lucre apart; that will get her out here so that we can discuss our secret evil plans without revealing them."

He can feel the daggers being thrown his way from the t'Kryze faction. His heart doesn't jump in fear.

Without a word, the unknown warrior seizes Lucre by the collar of her armor and yanks her out.

Tehlen looks at the four remaining warriors. "Fenn, take Junior here, and find me some Wrens. Jan, could you see about getting some of the other clans and factions to support us?"

Jan nods. "I will do my best, Tehlen," she says. She smiles. " _Cabur_."

Fenn and Drop look at her. She stares them back down. "Okay, Protector. What are you going to be doing in the meantime?" Tehlen smirks. She puts her hand over Talle's ears. "Well, I am not going to be pining for your cock, old man." She uncovers the tiny ears. "My deputy Protector, here, and I are going to see about getting some hot chocolate and discussing the shortcomings of our forces. Particularly the male ones."

Talle smirks at her father, as well as her 'grandpa.'

~+~+~+~+~+

Tommis Wren watches as the remainder of his Death Watch cadre prepare to board the two remaining _Gauntlet_ transports. His scouts had located good ground in the foothills around the settlement to hole up in. The assault transports would give them mobility and firepower.

His anger grows as he thinks of Lucre. She had been in contact with some of the factions without his knowledge. He was half-tempted to leave her to the tender mercies of the people of this cursed world. But, something stills his thoughts. A nagging in his mind that he needs her. That she is the true catalyst for any success that he has. Especially with his sister, the head of the family.

As if on cue, his holocomm beeps. He sees the identifier and curses. 

Ursa Wren's severe countenance projects in the air. "I hear that you have managed to get your wife captured. How did you manage that?"

"You'd have to ask her, sister," he says darkly. "She went off and tried to do a side job."

Ursa smiles. "At least she is doing something, brother. What have you done except get several of our Death Watch mercenaries killed?"

His anger grows palpably. "You might want to ask your pet. She got most of them killed on that 'side job." Her face darkens with anger. "Then perhaps it is time that I slit both of your throats."

"Salvage something out of this, brother. If I have to step in and takeover, it will not go well for either of you."

Tommis Wren steams. He wishes that he had never come to this hole of a world. A loud scream in the air diverts his attention. His eyes widen.

~+~+~+~+~+

The armored woman looks down at Lucre Wren as she unlocks the binders on her wrists. Lucre's eyes are skeptical as she waits for the woman's next move. "So, Lucre. You finally made it into a major family. Didn't think that you ever would get your fondest wish."

The young woman's eyes widen. "Who are you? What do you want? Why don't you go ahead and kill me?" She can feel the smile in the warrior's voice. "Someone from your past. What I want is the Death Watch remnants humiliated. If that includes the Wrens, then so be it. I would rather not; they may be valuable allies, but I will do what I have to do in order to defeat Death Watch. Her gloved hand strokes the cheek of the blonde woman. "Why would I kill a work of art like this?" The modulated voice takes a heavier tone. "Especially one with as devious a mind as you."

"So tell me. Do you want the Wrens to survive this? Do you want to be on the winning side?"

Lucre snorts. "Winning side? These _d'kuhts?_ Please. Don't make me laugh."

"I won't insult your intelligence, Lucre, my dear. I care not a fig for what happens here on Stornan. I just know that the last remnants of Death Watch; of Pre Vizla's little experiment needs to end."

Her voice grows even harder. "Where is Tommis?"

Lucre weighs her options. She thinks of what Ursa Wren would do, if she couldn't kill everybody in sight.

At least immediately. "Get ready to copy down these coordinates. It is their fallback position outside the settlement," Lucre says.

Later, as she looks at the unconscious woman, the warrior thinks about her revenge. She thinks of how she had manipulated these factions, merely by whispering in the ear of seemingly the smartest leader. It is poetic justice that the faction was an offshoot of the Kryze clan.

She makes sure that the woman is unconscious and the door is locked. She pulls her _buy'ce_ off. A woman in her thirties looks out at the world through pale eyes. She runs her hand through her short, red hair. She thinks of her sister, dying on the Darksaber blade. A blade wielded by an off-worlder.

Bo-Katan Kryze smiles as she thinks of revenge, as well as rebirth of the world of her mothers and fathers.

~+~+~+~+~+

Lassa Rhayme eases the control yoke downward. She smiles as she looks at the clutter of the sensor repeater.

Of the two Mandalorian assault craft just visible in the jumble. _That might be what cop-types call a clue. Since the local Mando hardheads don't have shiny ships like that, I think that they may be due some chaos._

_I know just the crew of idiots to bring it for them._

She turns to Adis. "Weapons are free on those toys. Keep the locals safe." He nods and turns to his station, his headdress flopping around his shoulders. She looks over at her co-pilot. She struggles for his name. She gives up. "Co-pilot, keep a close eye on our down-bubble. I don't want to flip in turbulence. Might throw off our gunner a bit."

The wide-eyed young Ithorian nods, something issuing from his gill-speakers. She hears the whine of the main batteries and then the crash of several rapid salvos. Her face grows pained. _This is for you, Ahsoka. Sorry I can't actually shoot at the Imperials since you did such a good job on them._

She sees armored figures running away from the exploding ships; as well as ejection seats triggering just before the explosion.

She wags the _Opportunity_ from side to side in triumph as she screams over.

Below her, a clan's war leader's expression grows angry, then resigned. He and his troops turn in another direction and jog to their now tertiary site.


	16. Echoes of Naboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion, of sorts, on two worlds.

Mon Mothma clicks off her comm, her expression thunderous as she thinks of her loss of control. Control over her life, even who would be in it. She walks out on the balcony into the warm breeze playing over the mountains. She looks out over the estate and its rugged hills. An estate owned by the man who had just told her that someone new would be in her life. Her eyes soften as she thinks of her chief of staff and her pride in his accomplishments.

Of a much younger version of that man being pushed into the river by his slightly older cousin. The once and future Senator from the sovereign world of Chandrila. The very river flowing by this family estate.

Dain Metten had told her that her new permanent bodyguard would arrive within the hour, to coordinate with the other security apparatuses trying to keep her alive.

As well as possibly keeping her from killing Garm Bel Iblis. At least on this world. 

She hears a sound from around the corner. Her expression turns to one of concern. She walks around. A tall young woman looks out over her patch of ground; on this side the manicured gardens and entry lane.

She turns as she hears Mon's approach. She starts as she sees the look of raw pain on Nola Vorrserrie's face; the uncharacteristic tears.

Breha had regaled her with the skill that this young - _so young_ woman had brought to their household and government. Of her strength in her official, as well as her less-than-official duties. She walks over and without a word, hugs the bodyguard, the minder, the fixer to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mon asks. The young Naboo wipe her eyes. "No, Senator. I don't," she replies. 

_Thank the gods_ , is the first thing to enter Mon's mind. She shakes the uncharitable thought away. Without a word, she pulls a handkerchief from her sleeve and hands it to Nola. 

Nola turns away and blows her nose. She watches as the younger woman stashes the cloth in her pocket. The professional minder looks at the Senator through narrowed brown eyes. "Senator, there are any number of angles that someone could put a long-range blaster bolt through your head. Please come with me, inside."

Mon rolls her blue eyes. _This is what I have to look forward to when I get my full-time 'baby-sitter.'_ She smiles disarmingly at Nola. The Naboo's expression does not change. If anything, it grows harder. "Senator, I am big enough where I can throw you over my shoulder and take you in by force, if I need to. Please don't make me. It can be undignified." Her face lightens in a smirk. "Ask Queen Breha."

Mon laughs at the vision of the powerful Queen of Alderaan being slung over a shoulder like so much grain. She moves closer to Nola. "How about arm-in-arm?" she asks brightly. Nola's expression lightens. She takes the Senator's arm in hers. They turn and start their walk to the doors.

They walk in companionable silence. "Nola, I know that you don't want to talk about it, but know that if you need anything, please let me know. It is the least that I can do to keep you well. Breha has told me a bit; not the details or who it is, of course, but I know what you have just spent the last several hours doing."

Nola does not immediately respond. Finally she turns to Mon and nods. "Thank you, Senator. I appreciate it. The only thing that you might do is help keep me from strangling her when she does come out of it," she says, the warmth in her voice backed up by steel.

Mon laughs. "I have loved ones like that," she says, thinking of her earlier conversation with Breha. _Her idiot._

Mon changes the subject. "I do have to let you know, Your Grace, that at least one of those loved ones has gone and done something stupid."

Nola grows alert. "What is that, Senator?" she asks warily. "My chief of staff, who owns this estate, has engaged a new bodyguard. A permanent minder for me. So you will either have additional help, or I will kill them for you."

"Do you trust your chief of staff?"

"Yes. I have to. He is my cousin."

 _Don't know if that is a requirement._ Nola muses. _I don't trust my older brother not to put a spider down my dress. I don't trust my older sister to drive a landspeeder safely._

She smiles slightly. _I guess I would trust both with my life._

"When do they get here?" she asks resignedly. "Sometime within the hour. He already has estate clearance." 

"Next time, please tell your cousin, that I am the only one who can grant clearance to the grounds." Nola says firmly.

"It is his house, Nola," comes the reply. "I can change that," Nola says darkly. 

Mon looks at her with her own dark, defiant look. "Nola. Just because you have power, doesn't mean you should always use it."

Nola stops and turns to her. Her arms fold across her chest. "That is a nice sentiment, Senator. One that I cannot afford to have. I will do whatever I have to in order to keep you alive and unharmed." _Including give up everything that I have,_ remains unspoken.

She doesn't have to speak it. Mon is well aware of the cost. Both women stare at one another. Mon has unconsciously mirrored the minder's pose.

Mon is about to relent when a deep, gravelly voice breaks into the tension. "Senator, you are outmatched. You are outstubborned," the voice says.

Both women whirl to the sound of the voice. A tall human, a few years older than Nola stands in the door. Mon sees a panoply of emotions flow over Nola's face.

Nola looks at the now clean-shaven face. The impossibly blue eyes are reminiscent of another. She stifles a sob; suppresses the emotions.

Eyes that she had last seen as her consciousness faded after a needle-prick in her neck. As his lips had touched hers for the last time.

She suppresses the warmth and the grief in her heart. In two rapid steps, she covers the distance to him. She doesn't embrace him. His head rocks back from her right cross. He manages to keep his balance, but only just. Mon looks at them with amazement. She hears the sharp voice of the young woman.

"You son of a bitch. I thought that you were dead."

Finder Skon rubs his jaw to reassure himself that it is still attached.

"Hey, No-no. At least you don't punch like a handmaiden anymore," he says warmly.

~+~+~+~+~+

Bryne Covenant marvels at the beauty of Naboo's capital city as he and the Dragon, as well as their once and future ally walk down the streets. In all of his travels as a Jedi, he had never been here. He had heard the stories of the importance of this small, peaceful world on the galaxy. 

He had been a twelve-year Initiate when Naboo had been invaded by the Trade Federation. He remembers hearing the stories of the exploits of a small band of Jedi, Naboo humans, and Gungans who had fought the machinations of the Nemoidians and their battle droids. He had mourned the loss of Master Qui-gon Jinn at the hands of the Sith. He had marveled at the story of the battle that had ensured that the Sith would remain dormant. A battle that had raised future master Obi-wan Kenobi to knighthood. He remembers the one time that he had fought with Kenobi, his former padawan Skywalker, and his snarky new padawan - Covenant's hunt-sister. A battle for a world that had resulted in his own knighthood.

His smile broadens into a grin as he remembers a contest between he and Kenobi. A contest of snark and sass.

A contest that a fourteen-year-old padawan had been the acknowledged winner.

Draq' and Hana look at each other as they see the play of emotions over his face as they walk. Hana herself is remembering that same invasion as a young child. Of being herded into 'relocation' camps with her parents. 

Of the joy when the security volunteers and the Jedi had broken the blockade. Joy tempered by grief as her beloved father dies of his wounds. Wounds incurred fighting to defend them when the droids had come for them. 

Hana and her other father had survived. She had her first inkling of a desire for service during that battle and the parade afterwards. An inkling born as she watched the young Queen and the Gungan Boss standing there reviewing the parade.

Draq' has his thoughts as well. Thoughts of the resulting rise to power as the Supreme Chancellor of an obscure Senator of this world, Sheev Palpatine.

A man who had torn the galaxy apart in his hidden quest for power. A man who had destroyed Covenant's family; had forced him to hide under an assumed name and a shadowy face.

He notices that they are beginning to travel in an area that is becoming less and less beautiful, as they move into the enclave of the Antols and their allies. The color that marks the rest of Theed, as well as the rest of Naboo seems to be sucked out of the atmosphere and of the structures.

The people walking the streets seem to be suffering from the same draining, oppressive lack of color. 

Stories abound of criminal gangs showing their altruism in their own enclaves. Of contributing to the the beautification of their surroundings. The legend of the criminals who rob from the rich and give to the poor.

None of that is evident in this area of Theed. The oppression can be felt even by Draq' Bel Iblis, who once joked that he had been tested for midichorians and had been told that he actually had a negative count. He can see the sensation on Bryne's face, even when he is shielding as hard as he is.

He sees Hana looking around in amazement. He smiles. "Never been in this part of Theed, have you?"

"No," she says. "Never had to be. The Militia doesn't even come down here. Why is this place so oppressive? So.....gray?" she asks. "Antols don't see a need to dress up their operations by beautifying everything. For one thing, this area is mostly populated by native Naboo. The Antols could give two shits about where they move into. They are one family; they only care about themselves. Most of the jobs in their organizations are filled by relations. They benefit from any credits coming in. They don't see a need to hide behind any altruistic charities or legitimate businesses. You either take or leave them. Maybe why their restaurants are so famous for their shitty food and indifferent service. It is merely a place to have a headquarters," Draq' finishes.

"Where did they originate from? They seem to be on every world in the Core and Mid Rim," Bryne muses. "No one really knows," Draq' replies. "The stories say that they were kicked off their homeworld. They vagabonded a bit, maybe several generations in space, until the Republic got tired of having to dedicate an entire division of Judicials to their depredations. They broke up the caravans."

"To the Antols, you are either family, or you are prey," Draq' finishes. His eyes narrow as he sees Bryne begin to come more alert. The younger man looks at his uncle. "Think we need to step it up for lunch. Seems like someone has already started without us."

The Dragon's look is thunderous. "I told her to wait," is all that he says.

The three of them begin to move faster as they hear the sound of blasterfire from two streets over.


	17. The Corellian Restaurant Critic's Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always watch out for the kitchen staff.

The rescuers cover the distance in record time. As they burst through the entrance of the restaurant, they realize that the sound of weapons fire has disappeared all together. 

The first thing that they see is Phygus Baldrick sitting on a stool at the bar. He is reaching behind the bar to fill a glass from the ale tap. A steadily moaning large human in a formerly immaculate suit lies across the bar near him. Without a word, the tiny slicer shoves the waiter off of the bar and behind it. He returns to his drink and his two datapads. 

Hana is struck by the sight of a beautiful, crimson-skinned woman frisking the moaning figure of another thug on the floor, adding several objects to a growing pile of blasters, knives, slug throwers, and other assorted implements of destruction. Hana laughs gently as she sees the woman test the heft of a particular blade, spinning it over her wrist and hand in several deft maneuvers. 

She sets that one aside and pulls the sheath off with it from the meaty leg of the unconscious thug. She looks up. "You took your damned sweet time," she says in a musical voice. "Yeah, well, I guess if I wanted you to actually wait on backup, I would probably do better to tell you to go ahead and rush in," the Dragon says darkly. 

The Zeltron rolls her purple eyes and runs her hand through her brown and blue hair. She stands to her full height, which is only about a half meter taller than the slicer at the bar, busily draining the establishment of its ale.

Her eyes light on Hana. Hana feels a warmth spread from within as the woman appraises her with frank interest. She walks over and extends her hand. "Dani Faygan. CorSec," is all that she says.

The warmth spreads to other parts, as well. Hana manages to find her own voice as she introduces herself.

Inspector Faygan's eyes seem to bore into her. She notices someone standing near her, looking up at her. 

The little slicer extends his own hand. "Phygus Baldrick. I am the adult supervision." Hana hears a snort from behind her. "I'd be careful of that hand, Captain," Bryne Covenant says. "You don't know where it has been. Or who it has been on."

She reaches down and shakes it anyway. The twinkle in the little man's dark gray eye disarms her and warms her for some unknown reason. "Pay my little brother no mind, my dear," he says in what could only be called a slight down-level Coruscanti accent, "for he is just jealous that I am at the right height for truly pleasing a beauty such as yourself."

_Okay. There it is._

The slicer's head rocks forward from the slap applied to the back of it from Dani. A slap applied with a mixture of long-suffering knowledge, and no shortage of love in the eyes of the teacher. 

"If someone could please tell me what has been learned from all of this," Draq' waves his hands at the breakage, both to furniture and six of the 'waitstaff,' "I would dearly love to know."

"So would I," comes a sharp, dangerous voice from the kitchen.

Skon Antol, self-appointed leader of the family, stands with two of his large 'relations,' behind him. His hand is on his own belt, under his expensive suit coat. He brings it out with a blaster held in it.

And promptly falls to the ground screaming as a blaster bolt intersects with his left knee.

He looks up at the young Corellian who holds a smoking DL-44 in his hand. He turns to the two minions and screams at them. "Shoot him! Shoot the bastard!"

He suddenly realizes through his pain that both minions are on the floor clutching various appendages. Appendages that seem to be smoking much like his kneecap.

He looks to the front. The Dragon of Corellia, as well as a Queen's Guard officer both hold their own smoking blasters. Another two thugs burst through the side entrance. In one smooth movement, Hana Yung-Shaizan holsters her blaster and switches to the short staff that she carries. There are two screams as the weighted top swings into the kneecap of one and switches to the other hand to arc into the side of the head of the other. The cane twirls into a position of rest under her arm.

Antol hears a drawling voice from the younger Corellian, addressed to the Zeltron. "Dani, I have told you before. If you want to serve the public health, don't shoot the waitstaff. Go for the kitchen staff."

Everyone freezes as the door bell jingles with its opening and a sharp voice yells, "ISB!" Drop all weapons!"

Agent Raisa Horan stands in the door with a single Fleet trooper

Everyone freezes except for a diminutive slicer who manages to slip behind the bar with his datapads and ale and head for the back exit.

The four officers from two different worlds stare at the ISB agent and friend like they were some new species of bug.

No move is made to drop any weapons. Slowly, Draq' signals to the others. They all holster their weapons and stand casually as if threatened by Imperials all of the time.

"You are under arrest! All of you! Trooper - take them into custody!" Horan shouts.

The trooper looks down at her and then at the four 'arrestees.' Four arrestees who now stand there with their arms folded, looking at the trooper expectantly. He holsters his blaster.

"On what charges?" Bel Iblis asks menacingly.

"Assault. Treason against the Empire. Acting outside planetary jurisdiction." She narrows her eyes at his expression of disdain. "Don't think that you are above the law, Procurator. You don't get to throw your weight around on another world."

He walks over to her and looks down at her from his two meters in height. Dani Faygan walks and stands next to him from her meter and a half in height. She looks down on Horan as well.

The two in between their height wisely figure that there is enough intimidation there for two Imps.

"It is not being above the law when you have an Imperial warrant signed by an Imperial magistrate," Draq' says quietly. "Plus the fact that your own boss authorized us to look into the assassination attempts on the two Senators."

The agent takes a step backwards. "Show it to me." 

"Nope," he says to the agent. "Tell me why you just accused us of treason against the Empire."

"Someone sliced into information that is restricted. We traced it to this general location."

"And you automatically assumed it happened here."

"What do you expect, dear Dragon? Whenever Corellians are involved, we automatically think that you are up to something," an affected Coruscanti accent says with amusement.

Dav Kolan stands at the door. His eyes lock on Bryne Covenant.

Covenant's own expression grows thunderous.

~+~+~+~+~+

Phygus Baldrick does not run away from the Antol's fine establishment, but he does move expeditiously. His comm dings with a text. His eyebrows raise as he sees the icon on the device.

A holographic representation of a mythical animal from his adopted world. A very large reptile. From the rear angle.

He grins as he reads the old Corellian calligraphy of the text. He turns and walks with purpose in another direction.

In the direction of the Royal Palace of Theed.

 _Time to be a court jester on another world_ , he thinks.


	18. Nola's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-due conversation between a Handmaiden and her Captain.

Riyo Chuchi walks into the small comfortable sitting room where Her Grace, the Hand of the Queen and Senior Representative to the Imperial Senate for the System of Alderaan, sits trying to pointedly ignore the conversation through the open doors of the next room. 

A conversation marked by the voice of a new bodyguard for the Senator from Chandrila. Riyo smiles as she thinks of the bruise on the young man's jaw.

She looks at the skinned knuckles of the young woman rising to greet her. She motions for her to sit. "Hello, Your Grace," Riyo says, hoping that her smile is comforting and that her makeup has been fixed from the tears.

"Hello, Senator. How...?" She takes the younger woman's hand and unconsciously starts massaging the knuckles. "She is resting comfortably, before they put her in the bacta. At least on the outside."

Nola raises a plucked eyebrow at that. "You can never tell with Force-users. I have some experience of their nightmares and dreams," Riyo says. She looks away, blushing, realizing what she has said. Nola takes her hand and smiles gently. "It's okay, Senator. I have the same experience that you do," she says in a whisper. 

Their eyes meet in understanding. "Granted mine comes from one night on a luxury liner," the Pantoran says.

She changes the subject. "Dek is very optimistic that she will recover with no ill-effects. Apparently the fact that Lassa was there with a bacta tank made the difference." Nola nods. "Yeah. The pirate looks out for her; mostly when she is unconscious. Otherwise, good luck trying to get her to not kill herself." 

Riyo starts at the bitterness in the young woman's voice. "Nola, I have known her for longer than you have. While I didn't see her get injured as much, I did see her do things that made my heart stop. I saw her do them with a smile on her face. She is absolutely fearless."

"Yeah. She is. That is my problem. She doesn't realize that there are people who have to watch and wait for her. Moreso than the Jedi ever had to."

Riyo nods; her face grim. "I imagine it is hard for her, too. She doesn't have an Order to fall back on; so much rides on her shoulders. She is barely more than a teenager. I know that you are younger than she is, but she is younger than I am, still." Nola is quiet as she listens. "Ahsoka has to do what she does. It is in her makeup to protect. I know that it looks like she is reckless, but she may not have any other choice, given who and what she is, as well as being out there alone."

Nola closes her eyes. She shakes her head. "I don't know if I can forgive her this one," she whispers. " She feels a pair of hands pull her to a small shoulder. "I know. I couldn't do what you do. I couldn't bear to see her suffering; in intense pain like you have to. I am sorry," the Pantoran says. "You helped save her life, Riyo. You didn't shirk anything," Nola says, her eyes soft.

"Plus, she is my responsibility. I am the one that dispatches her on these damned things."

"You don't have to bear it alone, Nola," Riyo says. "Bail and Breha....."

"That is just it. There may come a time, if we can get her through this, that she will have to go deeper; be more separated from them. I may be her only contact. Her only anchor."

She shudders. "I don't know if I can do that or not."

Riyo can only hold her tighter at the anguish in her voice. After a moment, Nola shakes the older woman's arms off gently. She nods her thanks and walks out.

Riyo is left to think of the pain on this world.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola stands on the balcony again, looking out over the mixture of manicured and wild landscape. Nola hears a footfall behind her. She tenses, her hand strays to her blaster, until she recognizes the step. One once as recognizable as her own. One as welcome in her senses as any. 

As welcome as his taste and the feel of his skin on hers. _As welcome as...._

She stifles the thoughts and emotions and turns towards him. He stops as he sees her dark gaze on him.

His own heart and emotions confuse him.

"So." she says, her eyes narrowing at him. "Guess you survived."

"Yeah. I did. Only just," he replies, his blue gaze reminiscent of so many times in her memory. Times of laughter and of sorrow.

"I am glad that you made it back to Alderaan, No-no.....," he starts. "Stop fucking calling me that," she cries, "Only my family gets to call me that. You no longer get to."

His own eyes flash with brief anger. He calms. "Alright, Your Grace. Fair enough. But I think that you might owe me an explanation of why."

She turns and contemplates the mountains in the distance. "Because I was set to stay with you. To die with you. To live with you and run away with you. To make a new life, or to lie with you in death, just as we had in life." She quashes the emotions, as she prepares to tell him of what they had started together.

Nola’s courage falters. Instead, she continues to take him to task. "You took the choice away from me. You may have thought that you had saved my life, but I was not some goddamned damsel-in-distress from the bard-tales of Naboo. I was a Handmaiden, sworn in a blood oath by the dark of the moon to give my life for my Queen and my people. The same way that my sisters did for Apailana. For Padme´in the past. Did you know that one of the ones who was sliced in half by that dark asshole's lightsaber was not even fifteen years old? At least I was nearly eighteen."

He is silent as he listens to her. "You took that away from me. I have to live with that fact. That I failed and outlived my Queen." She stops and gathers herself. 

She turns and looks him in the eye. "I also was left behind to mourn you, Fin. To think of and imagine how painful your death must have been. To be the last one left for the Imperials to take out their anger and vengeance on for Apailana's defiance."

"Imagine my surprise when you walk through my protection detail. Through my responsibility. That I have to mourn the fact that I loved and lost you again." She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She opens them and stares into his blue gaze. 

Her dark brows knit together. "How did you manage to escape, anyway?" she asks.

He smiles slightly. He moves closer to her. He takes her in his arms. "I am just glad that you survived." His eyes cast downward between them. "Your Grace."

She rests in his arms for a moment. Her expression darkens as she waits for more. She pushes him away and turns back to the window.

Nola shakes her head at his non-answer. She opens herself to her memories; decides that she wants more answers. That to get them, she will have to show her own cards. She turns back and faces him. "Mine is not the only life that you changed with your choice, Fin. Your choice, not mine." His eyes widen at her tone. "That nice little knockout drug that you used to make my choice for me? Guess you didn't read the label real well."

"Mainly the part about not being used on anyone who was pregnant. Even someone who wasn't even far enough along herself to know."

Nola realizes that she cannot bear the pain in his eyes that her statement - her statement meant to pry answers from him - answers of his survival - has brought. 

She turns and flees the room.


	19. Dragon vs. The Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ISB Machinations. One agent is put in her place, even as she wins an argument. Another makes himself clear to a Hunter.

Dav Kolan surveys all of them with amusement. From Horan's impatient anger, to Dani's warm hostility, to the Dragon's unabashed anger and hostility, to the Naboo's confusion. He walks over and embraces her. Their shared look of memory is powerful.

He turns to Covenant. The officer's expression is the one unreadable one among the four.

Memories and sensations come unbidden to the ISB agent's mind. He pushes them away for now.

"So, Dragon," he says, focusing his attention on the elder threat, "I see you have managed to run afoul of my assistant. That has to be a record, even for you. Two days after we all met on Alderaan and decided to play nice."

"I never agreed to play nice," Bel Iblis says. "I would never agree to that, right Dani?"

The Zeltron grins. "Not in his nature, dear," she says to the ISB agent.

"So what is exactly going on here, Raisa?" he asks, turning his dark stare on her. She suddenly finds something on her boots to contemplate.

The Fleet trooper wonders if he can get out of here without dying. From either side. He can only hope that what he has heard about Kolan's soft spot for Naval personnel is true. He contemplates the dingy ceiling of the restaurant.

Horan shakes her head and stares directly at Kolan. "I was told by an informant that someone who was digging into restricted Imperial information was going to be here. I decided to come and apprehend them."

Kolan smirks. "Apprehend. That is a big word for you, Raisa, dear." he says. The Corellians and Naboo can see the anger rising in her dark eyes. "So who is this informant? What are my favorite planetary bumpkins supposedly digging into?" he asks.

"I....would rather not say in front of them, sir." she finally gets out. Kolan's controlled bonhomie begins to erode. He starts to stare at the Alderaani with the same expression as the Corellians. "You were present, were you not when we decided to work together to see who was disrupting order on an Imperial world?" Idly, Covenant thinks of Kolan's tactics in reaching Horan. Rather than talking about the murder of Imperial citizens, which she would show no interest in. _Focus on 'order,'_ he thinks, _Imperials get wet with excitement when you mention 'order.'_

"But....," the junior agent starts. "So tell me, agent Horan. What were they digging into and who is your informant?"

The three Corellians start to feel sorry for the young agent. A tiny bit. "Mr. Antol is the informant, sir." she finally whispers. All eyes turn to the kneecapped crime boss, who is in spite of his pain, smirks at them all.

He reaches deliberately into his pocket. He pulls out a small roundel of metal and tosses it at Kolan. Kolan's eyes narrow. 

The others can see in a brief glimpse that the roundel bears an Imperial cog. He pulls out a small reader and inserts it. "Well, Trigger, what the hell is it?" Draq' asks. 

"It is something that I can't ignore, Dragon." His eyes harden. "It is a identi-chip for an ISB informant. An informant for someone of equal or greater rank to me." He ejects the chip and throws it at the Antol.

His aim is unerring. He strikes the criminal in his wounded kneecap. There is a cry of pain. "So what does it mean, Trigger?" Dani asks. "It means that we have to let him go and we need to figure out another way."

The anger from the local officers rises. Hana Yung-Shaizan turns to Kolan. "Trigger, we go way back, so I am willing to cut you some slack. I owe you my life a few times when we flew together. But I am quite sure that Queen Kylantha will have a serious issue with ISB protecting a murderous piece of shit like this on her world." He nods. 

"It wouldn't be the first time," Covenant says, darkly, his expression locking on Kolan.

Kolan ignores him. He turns to his assistant. "You have apparently made your bed, Horan. Now you will live in it. Take your pet scumbags to the med center. Then get your ass back to the office on Alderaan. I am going to take a long time to figure out what to do with you."

The young Alderaani suddenly finds her voice. As well as her guts. "You can't threaten me, Kolan. I know a few people who might not find it amiss if you were neutralized."

"Bring it on, dear. Just remember that you have to take a naval vessel to get back to Alderaan. Lot of things can happen on a naval vessel." He smiles dangerously. "They aren't exactly safe places."

Horan turns and looks at the assorted Antols, coming to consciousness. All of the thugs begin to help each other out of the restaurant. The last two, carrying Skon, turn the window sign to 'Closed.'

"So what the hell do we do now, Kolan? Your little machinations are making it so we cannot figure this thing out," Bel Iblis says. 

"Well, Dragon. You are all smart. Figure out another way. I am sure that there is another slicer that can get into the information and trace whatever it is you think you have found." The Dragon's eyebrows raise as the servos turn behind his piercing blue eyes. He nods and jerks his head at Dani and Covenant. Dani follows. 

Covenant watches as Hana and Kolan embrace. "I love you like a brother, Dav," she says. "But I will fight you with everything if you threaten my world."

Kolan nods "I know, Lancer," he says. Her eyes start at her old callsign. "We need to find another way." She turns and walks out without another word.

Leaving Kolan and Covenant alone.

"So." Kolan says. "Thanks for dumping me on that Outer Rim transport," he says, "it gives a new level of love'em and leave'em."

"Don't know what you are talking about, Trigger." He smirks. "Don't remember a goddamned thing."

Covenant's smile fades. His mind's eye sees the man before him, several months ago, as an old Republic medical station falls apart around them. Looking at the ISB agent through the mask of Imperial stormtrooper armor. The Imperial's dark eyes on him as he hands him a young, unconscious naval officer. A link to one who was dear to both of them. A Republic naval officer who had shaped both of them. One as a lover; the other as a commanding officer who had plucked him from obscurity and ignominy. Covenant's connection unknown to Kolan, as well as his true identity.

Covenant notices the smirk has returned on Kolan's face. "Here I thought that I was a memorable lay," he says.

The Corellian changes the subject. "Kolan, I am going to find out who is behind this. You and all of your Imperial lackeys, are not going to stand in my way."

Kolan's own eyes grow steely. "Don't threaten me, _Inspector_ ," he says. "I think that we want the same thing. Just different ways of expressing it."

"Nope. I want to save lives. All you give a shit about is your precious order." He looks down. "Seems to be the only thing that you get your jollies off on."

Kolan's eyes flash. He closes the distance between he and Covenant in two steps. His hand moves to the back of the Corellian officer's head. He brings Covenant's lips to his. Covenant feels the ISB agent's tongue press between his lips. He accepts it for a brief moment. They break free. Kolan's hand moves down and ghosts over the Corellian's groin.

"Not the only thing, my dear," the Lothali says with a smirk.

A cleared throat sounds from the door. They both look up. Covenant pushes Kolan away. Dani Faygan stands there, her expression running from shock, to a wry smirk, to a gentle smile.

"If you two need the room a while longer," she says. Kolan laughs. "No. I think that I got what I needed. Had to remind your Inspector of something."

He nods to her as he leaves the room. Covenant can't meet her eyes as he follows.

"It's okay, dear," she says, touching his face. "I don't hold it against you. Wherever you grab the light..."

"Stop," he says. "He ain't the light. He is part of the regime who killed my family. He was just something I apparently scratched an itch with." He looks at her, his eyes filling briefly. "A regime that killed yours, as well." he says gently. Her own eyes grow soft at their memories. She pulls him to her and envelops him in her embrace.

They stand there, two survivors propping each other up. 

Unknown to them, Draq' Bel Iblis watches them. His own eyes are troubled.


	20. A Covenant's Charge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of a snowswept world.

Bryne looks up from Dani's warm shoulder at the Dragon of Corellia standing outside the door. He turns back to Dani and gives her a quick kiss. Her smile is warm as they break apart and turn towards him. Covenant looks apologetically at his uncle. "Sorry, sir. I know we don't have a lot of time." For an instant, they both see the look of fond warmth on the older man's face. 

The warmth escapes quickly. "By all means. I always have time to watch one of my Rangers put his boss in a tongue-lock. Right after being put in one by an ISB scumbag."

Dani laughs softly as she sees the thunderous look on the Covenant's face. She places her hand on his chest. "This is one of those times that his roar might be more than his flame," she whispers directly in his ear.

"Maybe so. But does he have all of his shots for that roar? I don't want to catch anything." They break free and walk out with him.

Both Dani and Bryne notice that Bel Iblis looks as if he has something to say. Something that could flip everything on its head.

Bryne reaches over and touches his arm. He nods at Draq's look. "I am headed back to Alderaan," Draq’ says. "I am taking Garm back with me."

"Why the change in strategy, Dragon?" Dani asks. "He is safe here."

"I know, dear. But now that forces other than Trigger are involved in the ISB; forces that could be more aggressive in being assholes, I think that it might be better to get him off of Naboo. For everyone's sake." His expression darkens. "Even though Kylantha might have made her bed with them." He checks his chronometer. "We are leaving within the hour. I need the two of you to go to Kylantha and ask if Hana can do some poking around with the Antols. ISB can't say much if the locals want to check out their own shit-piles."

Draq' stops and guides them both over to a bench in one of the myriad of green spaces starting to dot the cityscape again. _Now that they are out of Antol-land._

He sits down and pulls out his flask. He takes a long sip from it and passes it around. After it has returned, he takes a deep breath as he returns it to his coat pocket.

"Bryne. I have something that I need you to do. Something that may turn some of the shit to gold on Stornan. Something that can pull the pressure off of Bail's people, there."

"It is an 'ask,' not an instruction. Simply because of the risk, and I know how it will hurt you. How it may pull those memories to the surface that you have worked so hard to bury." He stops. Bryne's expression is unreadable. Dani's is definitely readable as she puts her hand on the younger man's again.

"Draq'....," she starts. Bryne looks at her and shakes his head. "What do you need, Uncle?" he asks quietly.

"I need you to go to Krownest, son." Bryne looks away. "I need you to go talk to Ursa Wren."

"I need you to get your in-laws out of the shit that they have created."

After he is gone, Bryne and Dani sit there in silence. She watches the play of emotions over his face. She knows that he is no longer sitting there. His mind is on a snowswept, mountainous world.

~+~+~+~+~+

"Would you quit fidgeting?" J'ohlana Wren asks the man now only known simply as 'King.' "It will be fine. She might not like you, but she will respect you for coming here."

"Easy for you to say. You're not coming here to take her baby sister away."

"King. Use your words. That implies that you are dragging me away by my hair. I am walking away with you with my head held high and your hand in mine." The laughter flows to her eyes. "Plus, later, you will kneel before me and please me with your mouth, peasant," she says imperiously.

"I think that I will need a bigger dowry," he says.

She punches his arm. "Asshole." She looks at him; her eyes warm as she takes in his attire. He wears his lived in, mis-matched commando and _beskar_ armor,with the colors of his house draped over it. Colors that have meaning on his father's world, as well as his mother's. She touches the thin purple sash bound around his abdomen. She takes in the dark green, gold-edged capelet over his left arm. The leather belt with the teeth inset and another type of sash next to his Corellian blaster. Her eyes tear slightly at the sight of the mixture of cultures. Her hand reaches behind him and touches the leather case at the horizontal on that belt. A case that conceals two ancient weapons of a forbidden birthright; the weapons of a beloved teacher and student. Her hand moves up his back and then through his iron-gray hair.

It is the silver symbol on a chain around his neck with those colors in jewels that draws her eyes. A symbol of his ancient title; a title more ancient even than Ursa's.

She had made sure that her older sister had known that. As well as the fact that he had bested her four older and bigger brothers, as well as one's wife. That he had stood the required minute after he had felled them all.

Before collapsing himself. She smiles to herself. He had spent the required skill, power, and blood in gaining the privilege of holding her hand, looking in her eye with that sarcastic, pained warmth, and starting warriors in her. The smile morphs into a smirk. _Or gamblers._

She notices his eyes drinking her in. She looks down at her own black _beskar'gam_. The symbol of justice. Justice for the victims of her own birthright. A birthright that her family seems to be moving away from. He places his hand against the orange stylized owl over her heart. A color representing a lust for life in her people's lexicon. The heart of armor forged by her own skilled hands. She smiles to herself. _If he only knew what I have been working on in my forge._

She gives one last pat to his chest, and then draws his lips to hers. They stand lost in one another as a very small boy with similar dark eyes to J'oh, walks out with four warriors flanking him. He waits patiently as his aunt breaks apart from the off-worlder.

The silent boy and his escort bring them into a large hall. A woman sits on a throne under a portrait. A portrait of the same woman in stained glass. A portrait with an almost warm look on the face.

Decidedly warmer than the _beskar'gam_ -clad figure on the throne. Taliesin Croft, son of two worlds, takes a deep breath and walks up to her. He bows and then straightens, looking her square in the eye.

"I come here to ask you for the favor of a _ridduurak_ with that which is the pride of your Clan," he says in flawless Mando'a. He looks down at J'oh. She smiles at him; her hand warm in his.

"You would seek a marriage contract with a daughter of Clan Wren?" the Countess says after a moment. Her dark eyes lance through him. "You, an offworld half-breed? With nothing to your name except some mis-matched armor and a little bauble around your neck from some pawnshop on Corellia?"

 _Well, that wasn't in the brochure,_ he thinks. His eyes grow fierce, but his tone remains even as he continues with the formal responses.

"I will offer her my power, my skill, and my blood. We will raise strong warriors together." At this, he looks pointedly at the four men and one woman standing next to a small girl. Five Mandalorians with various bruises, lacerations, and misshapen limbs.

Ursa follows his gaze. A slight smirk graces her stern features. She returns to her examination of him. She slowly turns to her sister. "Are you sure, _Lana'ika_? Sure that you want to take this gambler between your legs? To make your bed with a penniless adventurer who knows nothing of family?"

The younger woman's eyes flash. "You have no idea what you are saying, _Vod_ ," she says. "He knows more about family than anyone in this room. We have made our family already." She sees a beloved brother to both, smiling warmly at them. "I stand ready to defy you, Ursa, if I need to. I don't want to, because I realize that family is everything. But I also know that this man has more _Mando'kar_ , than any of these overgrown assholes standing to our side, and their useless mates."

There is a low grumble from the group. The biggest of them starts towards her. The supplicant half-turns towards him. He smiles a crooked, dangerous grin. "Tommis!" The voice penetrates the air of the hall from the throne. "He has already beaten you once. I don't relish having you embarrass us again in our own seat."

The larger warrior is pulled back by a smaller, but apparently smarter blond woman with sharp, appraising green eyes. The Corellian turns his attention back to the throne. Ursa Wren rises and walks over to them. She pulls her gloves off and takes J'ohlana's hands in hers. She looks down at the younger woman. She smiles softly. 

"You always have to be difficult, don't you?" she says with uncharacteristic gentleness. "I know, _Urs'ika._ But unlike these others, I have never asked you for anything in my life."

The woman's smile broadens. "That is true, girl. You have always made your own way. That is the thing that makes me proudest." The two sisters kiss and embrace. The Countess turns to Croft. "What is your name? Not some nickname gained because you wiped the floor with my kin, but your true name. You may whisper it, if you need to."

He grins. "I was known as Taliesin Croft for most of my life. But I was born Jame _atin_ Blackthorn, on Mandalore."

J'ohlana stares at him in amazement at the revelation of his middle name. "Stubborn? Your second name is stubborn?"

"I know. Doesn't fit, does it?"

Ursa watches the byplay with amusement. She grows serious. "I will grant your request, Stubborn," she says in Basic. She repeats the formal words in _Mando'a_. "I do not need to threaten you with dire consequences if you hurt my sister," she says. "She is more than capable of castrating you and leaving your body in a hole somewhere." She smiles ruefully and lifts up her top. A small scar is displayed on the muscled belly. "She once stabbed me when we were younger and I was trying to get her to do something that she didn't want to do."

"You are such a drama queen, Ursa," J'ohlana says with an eyeroll. "It was a cut with a tiny penknife."

"A penknife that was sunk to the hilt," the Countess says. Their laughter rises together. The other Wrens look perplexed, and even angry, except for the small girl on the end. She smiles at the three. 

Ursa looks at him. She pulls him into an embrace and briefly touches his lips with hers. She turns away and walks back to the throne.

J'oh bows to her as she walks away. Croft mimics her. J'oh pulls him away. "That was it? That was all there is? I expected to have to fight her."

"If that had been the case, bud, you might have been carried out of here." She reaches up and kisses him. Her near-black eyes gaze into his. "I am very proud of you. You didn't back down. She respects that." She pulls him. "Let's get back to Saleucami. I want to get the ceremony done."

"Don't we have to wait or something?"

"No. They are posting the banns now. Once they are up; we can do it."

She kisses him again as they move to the old shuttle. "I went through this for _allit_. I don't really want them there at our wedding."

"Why are you in such a hurry to get to the ship? You afraid she might change her mind?"

"You never can tell," she says, looking at him sideways. "No. Just want to get into hyperspace. I feel the need to get naked with you."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he says. "Faster."


	21. Heart vs. Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A caretaker learns that not all is what it seems on a puppet world of the Emperor.

Dani Faygan walks into the small bedchamber she had been given in the Palace. Her expression is thunderous. After cooling their heels for hours, they had finally been told that Kylantha could not see them. _Affairs of state._

She sits on the bed and sighs. Her boots are soon on the floor and her blaster and holster rest on the nightstand. _This may delay our leaving for Krownest, but I am sure that the old man wants us to talk to the Queen._

She lies back on the bed, thinking of Bryne and his pain. The pain of his lost months on Takodana, just existing after Jo's death. The sight of one of his shames walking up to him. 

Then there was the dynamic with the Naboo guard. She had seen them circling around each other on the way to the Antols. Talking in circles. He avoiding her as she looked at him with her own memories.

She sighs. Covenant had told her that she had recognized him from the war. As Taliesin Croft, Jedi Shadow and General. He had briefly told her of the connection with Jana Sloane, the naval officer that had helped keep him alive during the War. He had helped her live and be alive as well. Her mind flashes to a night on the small frigate. A night of light and touches.

She shakes her head. Her own dead start to creep into her mind. A fierce little Drall officer who in a too-brief time had taught her so much about bravery and dedication. 

As always, her mind sees a tall, serene, older Togruta watching her with amusement. With the light of love in her violet eyes. Her eyes close as she sees that same Jedi Master, her face coming undone in passion. 

Of the look of love in her eyes as they both sit on the huntress's world; their hands bound with red and white silk, speaking words in Dani's mother's language. Words of commitment. She smiles. 

_Words of attachment._

She thinks of another, younger Togruta, that she had only briefly known on an Outer Rim pirate ship before the world ended. Of the looks and touches that passed between her and Dani's brother-of-the-heart.

Before the world ended in fire. 

She sighs and stands up. The action of earlier, the emotions, and the frustration have created a restless energy in her. A product of her people. A restless energy, that if not expended, would probably cause half the Palace to feel the same restlessness. She idly thinks about going to Covenant's room and working the energy off in the traditional manner of her people. 

She opens the emotional resonance a bit. She smiles as certain emotions come from the next room. _Not quite what I thought, but I think I might be intruding a bit._

 _Never been a deterrent._ She laughs gently. She walks into the 'fresher. Her eyes light up at the rich marble of the shower. More importantly, the tub. 

She begins to strip out of her clothes. She is down to her underwear when she hears a noise from the main room. She curses to herself at her mistake. She realizes that her blaster is still in the bedchamber. 

Dani smiles. She picks up a large bottle of bath oil. She steels herself and walks into the chamber. The door to the hall is closing.

A tall, blonde woman stands in the middle of the chamber. She raises a plucked eyebrow at Dani's nudity. A smile flows to her lips briefly under the high cheekbones.

Dani stops. She recognizes the face from holos. 

Kylantha, elected Queen of the Naboo stands in her bedchamber, clad in a simple nightgown. Dani realizes that her holstered blaster is no longer on her night stand. 

She clutches the bottle. The Queen looks pointedly at it. 

Dani looks defiantly at her as she lowers the object. A cool, high voice issues from the Naboo. "I understand that you wished to see me?"

Dani realizes that the woman's breathing has increased in speed. She smirks. Without a word, she walks over to the couch and sits.

She doesn't make a move to any of her clothing. _Let her be off balance for a while_.

After a moment, Kylantha walks over and sits on the couch next to her. She relaxes, but her respirations remain the same.

"Not very respectful of protocol, are you, Senior Inspector?" she remarks. 

"Well, you did come into my room unannounced, your Majesty," Dani replies calmly.

"One could look at it that this is my room," the Queen says. "One could, if one gave a shit about such things," Dani replies.

"Hana told me about you Corellians. About your irreverence."

"We care about what we care about, your Majesty. Right now we care about keeping a member of our family and a valued ally alive and trying to keep our worlds at peace." Her eyes narrow. "At least between ourselves."

She stands and walks over to the sideboard. She feels the Queen's eyes on her movements. She pours the only thing there, from a decanter of some bright liquid. She takes a sip and makes a face at the sweetness. She raises an empty glass to the Naboo in a question. The Queen shakes her head. 

Dani returns to the couch. She takes another sip, and then a deep breath. The imperious mask of the Queen does not falter, but she can tell that it is a struggle. "As far as protocol goes, I am a retainer of the Elder Family of the Five Brothers." _Not to mention a member,_ she doesn't say. "I will not go into my connections to it, but I am most probably close to being an equal to you. The young man next door is probably your equal as the Covenant of his world."

Kylantha smiles. "Point taken, my dear." The mask slips into a warm smile. "You have also solved, at least temporarily, a bit of a problem for me on my world, by breaking Skon Antol and some of his chief 'restaurant staff.'

Dani laughs. Kylantha continues. "I also know that you are leaving Naboo, to keep us out of the Imperial entanglements. I appreciate that from the bottom of my heart."

 _Didn't know you had one, dear,_ Dani thinks. She sees a pair of pained, dark eyes, from a tall, strong former Handmaiden of this world in her own mind's eye. _Especially since you seem to relish your Imperial entanglements._

Kylantha's eyes flash as she sees the expression on Dani's crimson face. "You might try to not believe everything that you hear, or your preconceived notions about me and my world, Inspector. I, like you, and your 'Covenant' am only concerned with the protection of my people and my world. A world that is the home of the Emperor and has been the center of strife for nearly twenty years in this galaxy." 

Dani smiles at her passion. "I stand corrected, Majesty," she says. "I can appreciate your position. My concern is more narrow. I keep the one who keeps the one who keeps his people protected, alive and healthy. That is my charge."

Kylantha smiles. She walks over to the woman who barely comes up to her chest. She touches Dani's cheek. "You protect the protector, in other words." 

"Yes," is her simple reply. She reaches up and covers the pale hand on her cheek. There is silence. 

Kylantha drops her hand, but takes Dani's in an easy grip. "As to your purpose for an audience, I think that we can continue to look into the Antols and their connections. Hana will lead that."

Dani dips her head in respect. "Thank you, Majesty," she says. "We appreciate it."

Kylantha picks up Dani's glass and sips from it. She notices that Dani's purple eyes have transitioned to black. "I need you to do something, as well, Daaineran." After a moment, the officer nods. "I need you to give a message to someone." Dani's eyebrows raise at the tears forming in the Queen's eyes.

"I need you to tell Nola Vorrserrie that it is safe for her to return to Naboo. To her home."


	22. Light in Peace and War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories from the war.

Covenant smiles as he feels the emotional blowback from the next room. _Wonder if she will be in here, soon?_ he thinks.

The Corellian looks at the armor and weapons laid out on the couch and nearby caf table. He sighs and readies the leather coat to go over the upper part. _The Naboo might not like having somebody going full Mando through their streets to the spaceport. Bad enough having Corellians here. The property values might go down even further._

There is a slight knock at the door.

He pulls his blaster from its holster and walks to the door, standing away from it. Hana Yung-Shaizan stands there. She is clad in a pair of comfortable leggings and a tank top. She lifts up a bottle with a questioning look.

He smiles and motions her in. Her eyes widen briefly as she spots the blaster, but she gives a slight nod. He places the blaster in its holster by the armor. She hands the bottle to him and walks over to the armor. She runs her fingers over it. 

The Captain looks up at him. "That is beautiful work," she says. Bryne nods. "Yeah. Way better than I ever deserved."

Hana gives him a curious look. She takes the proffered glass with the whiskey. They raise them to each other and drink. They both sit in the loveseat opposite the couch with the armor resting on it. "Pretty good whiskey, Lancer," he says. 

"Thanks, Bard," she says, using the shortened form of the name that his clone troopers had given him. His eyebrows raise, but he says nothing. She looks at him, unsure of what to say. "Jana gave it to me when she selected me as CAG," she whispers.

He nods absently, his eyes distant. "Hana," he says, "thank you for keeping my secret. A lot of people could be in danger if...." He stops.

She takes another sip of her drink. She puts the glass down. "I think that I owe you, Tal," she whispers. 

His eyebrows raise. "How do you figure?"

"I saw what you did for my Captain. I saw how she looked when you showed up on the _Venator_ again, at Boz Pity. I saw how you interacted. You may never have married each other, or any silly shit like that, but there was love there. There was light in the darkness."

He is silent with memories. Of tastes and warmth. _Of strength and heart aplenty._ "She made things bearable. Even though she gave me and my troopers enough shit to fill a barge, she loved them. I saw her die a little bit whenever one of them didn't come back." He smiles with other memories. "She took a chance on me, just as she did on you, Lancer. Just as she did with another broken friend. A fellow Padawan who left her arm and our friends on Geonosis."

"She told me about her Jedi XO," the Naboo says. She smirks. "You're both a couple of self-deprecating idiots. She said the exact same thing that you did about who saved Elle. You and that big-ass clone you rescued from the undercity in the attack." 

Covenant tries to suppress the look of pain at the mention of Drop and Elle. Tries and fails, but Hana leaves him to mourn.

Bryne changes the subject. "So what about you, Hana? What about you and your husband? Is there a story there?"

She is silent. She reaches down and pours another stiff shot and downs it. Her own eyes are sad. "I guess when the Imps kicked me out of the Navy, I was looking for something. I found a high-speed, low drag, risk-taker. He made and lost fortunes the way most people put a couple of credits in a sports pool. He felt like to me that he was something I needed."

Bryne is silent, allowing her to tell her story. He wraps her hand in an easy grip. She looks him in the eye, as if daring him to say anything. "Guess it didn't help that he is an asshole," she says. "Or maybe I am. Zoomies aren't exactly known for their humility."

"Neither are Jedi. Or Corellians. Or Mandos for that matter," he says, his easy grin coming to his lips.

She matches his grin. "No. But I think that financiers and politicians have you beat, General," she says.

She looks down. "I miss Jana. She would've known what to do. I seem to always find myself asking what she would do, about after the first month of marriage to his work and ambition."

"She wasn't infallible. She did sleep with me on a regular basis."

The Naboo rolls her eyes. At the culmination, her dark eyes lock with his. "I think that you made her extremely happy. You and that little sister of hers." She notices his dark expression. "What?"

He begins to stroke her wrist, gently. "I ran into her. She is a dyed-in-the-wool Imperial." They both look down. Hana remembers meeting the sister, only a half-decade younger than Jana, on a brief leave on her Captain's homeworld. An intelligent young woman, who worshipped the ground that her older sister walked on.

Bryne remembers handing a limp young naval officer that he had stunned to an ISB agent.

Their eyes lock on one another. They both start as something seizes their hearts. Hana lifts his hand. She runs her fingers over the ring; the orange and black filigree shining in the low light. She looks over at the armor. The small handprint in black and orange on the breastplate.

His eyes are filled with something unreadable. A look that says that some wounds are too raw to open. To pick at. He smiles gently. "She was killed. By Imperial commandos. My brothers," he says simply. 

Their shared pain nearly overwhelms them. She takes his hand and gently kisses the ring. Her lips move to his palm; to his wrist. She looks up. She brings his hand to her cheek. 

Her lips move to his. Their tongues meet and caress each other gently.

In a brief second, they are pulling at their clothes. His eyes drink in her form as she stands nude before him. She yanks him up and works at his belt.

When they are both bare, she takes his hand. They turn and walk to the bed. In one swift move, she pulls him on top of her.

Her hands splay over his back. She gasps as she her hand runs over his ruined right shoulder; the angry scars only a few years old. She reaches up and kisses a small scar on his chest. Her mouth moves down to his nipple. He gasps as she uses her teeth. He sees an angry scar on her left breast. He pushes her away and moves down to run his mouth over it. She giggles as his beard tickles the hard tips of her breasts.

Their hands clasp, straight out from their bodies. Covenant brings himself up. She looks up into his eyes. They narrow into a smirk that he surely learned elsewhere. His head dips to her belly. Another scar, this one a small puncture wound. 

Her eyes tear at the tenderness. She gasps as his mouth dips towards her hip. She runs her fingers through his hair as his tongue and teeth move gently down her leg. He pauses over her core.

He gives the curls a quick kiss, then moves back up to the right side of the belly. The dexter side gets the same treatment as the sinister. Hana gives a soft scream as his tongue enters her; as it plays over her entrance.

The screams build and repeat on a continuous loop as he locks onto her clit, his mouth and tongue gently teasing.

She can feel the explosion building behind her eyelids. They snap open and lock onto his eyes looking up at her. 

She screams. She seizes his hair, ignoring his cry. She pulls his face up and his lips to hers. She gasps as she tastes herself. 

Her hands move down his chest. It is his turn to gasp as her hand closes on him. She matches his smirk as she less-than-gently tugs him towards her center. 

Their soft cries sound in harmony as she moves the tip of him along her entrance. Her eyes tear again as he eases himself inside of her. Their eyes lock; their tears matching as they build a rhythm. His thrusts deepen as her legs wrap around his back, pulling him deeper into her.

She whispers his name into his ear, as her teeth close on the lobe. She whispers the name that he had fought a war with, as well. 

She falls over into the chasm. She had once had to eject from her fighter into atmosphere. The feeling of her entire being wrenched through her mind.

The sensation is the same. 

Bryne Covenant follows her into the chasm. The sensation for him is more like his first Force jump from the top of the Temple on a dare.

Hana feels the warmth of his finish inside of her own. The well bursts and the tears flow freely as she thinks of her dead. Of her lost life since the war.

The man once known as Taliesin Croft, only sees three pairs of eyes looking at him.

One, the eyes of a naval officer who straddles him after she had defeated him in yet another spar; the second a pair of laughing, near-black eyes that look at him over her swollen belly. The last a pair of wide blue eyes, filled with snark and compassion. All with the ability to fill with sarcasm at something stupid he had done. 

Bryne collapses next to her, as he slides out of her. They both roll on their sides. Their eyes lock on each other.

Both filled with grief and pain. They touch each other's faces as sleep claims them both. 

~+~+~+~+~+

In the next room, Dani Faygan smiles at the beginnings of the sensations playing over her empathic senses. She begins to feel the excess energy in her body; the sparking frustrations that had been lessened by the thoughts of a Queen after she left the room, diminishing.

Her eyes widen as the pain and grief flows back through the reflection. She pulls her hands over her ears and squeezes her eyes shut tightly, as she attempts to close the resonance. A sharp cry is wrenched from her lips as the darkness moves over her. She clinches her teeth. Her breathing descends into a series of gasps.

Soon, there is only the sound of her sobs reverberating through the room. Her last thoughts before she falls into a fitful sleep are of the two young warriors next door. Of their pain.

She thinks mostly of her brother of the heart. Of his Master.

~+~+~+~+~+

In the royal chambers, Queen Kylantha sits up with a start as her respiration and heart rate slow. A sad smile plays over her pale features as the remnant of the powerful emotional resonance of the proud young woman in the guest chambers tumbles through her being. 

She makes a note to schedule a state visit to Corellia.


	23. So Says the Hand of the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions for a future of a Fulcrum. Revelations of a deceitful past.

The huntress floats, as if between the cosmic Force, and the living. Her mind is only vaguely aware of the pain of her wounds.

It is more aware of the pain of her soul. Her losses, her deaths well in her senses as she rests. 

Something else intrudes into her mind. A warmth, from a near presence. Not a Force-sensitive presence, but one that nearly overwhelms the darkness. A loving presence, a friend, but one that will hold her accountable for her risks and her actions. 

One that at this moment, is dealing with her own pain and guilt. 

Her own frustration of not being able to protect everyone.

Including the young woman suspended in the vacuum, as sure as she is suspended in the viscous fluid whose sharp smell intrudes even into her unconscious.

The young ex-Jedi. The child of the Force, extends the warmth as far as she can into the small chamber and beyond into the outside room.

She wills her eyes to open. The rich bacta burns them as she struggles to focus on the indistinct figure beyond the transparent walls of the tube. A very tall figure.

Her eyes widen as she is able to pick up on some of the stray thoughts of her friend. Thoughts of a young man who had made her heart start. Thoughts of a young presence that never was. 

She struggles as the machines automatically detect her near consciousness and inject more sedatives into her system. Her last thoughts are of her friend before her consciousness fades.

She is once again at home with her ghosts. Her ghosts and a presence that seems less and less like a ghost.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola Vorrserrie stands in front of the bacta tank, watching Ahsoka placidly rest in the healing fluid. 

Sometimes not so placid, as she jerks spasmodically every so often. 

Her eyes and her mind are on her friend, but she is also thinking of other losses. 

She thinks of what Finder had said. Of wanting to start over. To try the life that they were building again.

A life riven with losses, now. Of mistrusts between them.

 _At least on her part_. She shakes her head, cursing. There was no way that he could've known that the drug that he had chosen would have had such a catastrophic effect on their lives. Bail's doctor had said that the child may not have been viable; that the stress that she was undergoing from the loss of her sister Handmaidens and her Queen; her guilt at not dying with them; could have contributed to the loss.

The only thing that he could truly be blamed for was the major sticking point. The fact that he had robbed her of her choice. Of her agency in the decision-making of her fate.

She does not know if she can ever forgive him for that.

Nola turns her thoughts fully to the young woman floating before her. She smiles gently through her pain and frustration. She thinks of the sisters in her life. Sisters not of blood, but of care and concern. Of light and comfort. Of growth. Her foster-sister, Dani. _The most loving person in the universe._

The Hand of the Queen's brow grows more thunderous as she thinks of the risks that they take on an almost daily basis. Of their dedication to extending that, _well, yes, love_ and compassion to the Galaxy at large. A Galaxy riven by darkness.

Her anger and frustration comes not from the risks that they take, but her inability to provide them with any type of protection. Her duties to her adopted planet, her sanctuary, keep her from fighting with them. They are alone.

 _Well, that is not necessarily true_. At least in Dani's case. Nola's thunderous expression fades into a gentle grin as she thinks of the young ex-Jedi who watches her foster-sister's back, as well as protecting his father's world. A man whose sarcastic, cynical exterior, who most probably compensates with an overinflated sense of charm, hides a compassionate, loving heart. She smiles with a bit of warmth in her face, as she remembers her own grasping of the light with him, of the touches and tastes of that light.

A heart dedicated to protection. One that has been torn and put back together again so much in the last four years.

Including by the perceived death of the young woman floating in front of her. His hunt-sister, and if you believe the young woman's dreams--something more, just before their world exploded.

The Hand's heart seizes as she thinks of what she has been hiding. Each from the other. That each has survived. She curses silently. As she watches Ahsoka float in the fluid, she can't even remember why she had done it. _Oh yeah. To protect the movement._

_From what?_

Her eyes widen as she suddenly realizes what she has done. She has robbed Ahsoka and Covenant of their choice, just as Fin had robbed her. She shakes her head. Both of them had made her the keeper of their secrets. The keeper of secrets in the midst of an overwhelming darkness.

Her eyes tear at the thought. _It doesn't absolve her of blame._ With the pain of her realization, Nola's mind starts to move with possibilities. She knows that Bail's eventual goal had been to have the Corellians assist in the running of Fulcrum's network, as security and protection. She is not sure that Bail anticipated what form that would take.

Her eyes sharpen their gaze on the young woman in bacta, until she realizes that Bail is standing next to her, his hand on the bacta tube. The First Chairman, Viceroy-Consort, and Senator of a peaceful, green world, watches the young woman sleep.

The young woman that his decisions send to her possible death every day. _His own secrets and deceptions._

As she thinks that dark thought, Nola suddenly realizes an important fact. Something that she has known, but has discounted in her anger and frustration. In her anger and frustration with herself. Her own weakness.

 _No one sends Ahsoka Tano anywhere that she doesn't want to go. This is what she knows. Her part of freeing the galaxy. As much as what Bail and Mon know_. Her tears fall freely. _As much as what I know._

Her face grows thunderous again. _Still doesn't take away the fact of how pissed off I am at her, for the risks she takes._ Her features calm as she looks at the young woman, now settled again. _Maybe I can protect her. Maybe I can protect her where I couldn't before. Where I couldn't protect my Queen._

She moves closer to Bail. He smiles and puts his arm around her shoulders. He is a government official who is one of two who actually looks down on her, being a couple of centimeters taller even than Draq' Bel Iblis.

"Only way we can see her at rest," he says sardonically. "She is always in motion, every time I see her. Although much less so than when I knew her as a fifteen year old Padawan."

A portrait of that young girl comes to Nola's mind. Another of the news holo of her standing before the Senate, on trial for her life.

She shakes it away. Instead, she forges ahead. "Senator, I know that you have specific plans to have the Corellians act as backup for Fulcrum. The Dragon's people, specifically."

Bail is silent. "That was the plan. I think that it especially was on Draq's mind after he found his Covenant." The way he says the young man's name is not lost on Nola. An ancient title of protection on an ancient world.

Bail pulls her closer. "I am concerned about how Garm figures into all of this. I don't know if I am ready to trust them, because of it."

"I think that Draq' is aware. He is very protective of their cover and concealment. Hell, Dani is listed as an Academy director. She isn't even listed as qualified for field duties."

"Yeah, we know how well that works out. Keeping your foster-sister in an office is nearly equivalent to keeping Fulcrum there."

Nola smiles and nods. "Short of giving her an office job, I think that her own personal watcher and watchers might be the best to ensure that she is around when the Emperor falls."

"Point taken, Nola. We might start moving in that direction. But slowly." Bail adds. His eyes lock on hers. "Very slowly, your Grace," he says pointedly. 

The fixer is thoughtful. "Maybe we can do it in a way that she is not aware of it. Until we can get her to warm to the idea."

An uncharacteristic smirk flows to Organa's handsome features. "Sounds good. As long as you are the one who has to deal with her when she finds out that _you_ have been deceiving her."

Nola's heart stops for a second. She recovers, camouflaging with snark. "We'll just blame the Queen," Nola says with her own smirk. "She never has any trouble handling our huntress."

"She never has any trouble handling any of us." Bail says ruefully, as their laughter rises, in a rare moment that takes them away from the sight of the young huntress struggling to heal. Away from thoughts of her loss.

~+~+~+~+~+

Hana Yung-Shaizan stares at the indentation in the bed in the morning sunlight. She tentatively reaches out and touches the sheets. She closes her eyes as she feels the slight warmth that lingers. Memories of touches and other warmths flow into her mind.

There is a particular warmth centered between her legs. She curses under her breath, but calms as she thinks of their shared pain.

Of the respite for them both. 

She swings her legs the rest of the way out of the bed, ignoring the soreness. A wry grin flows to her somber face. She is sure that he might be walking a bit crooked in his fancy Mando armor.

Her thoughts of the problem of the Antols intrude into her warmth. She thinks back to what she knows of the criminal family.

Her mind's eyes suddenly focuses on an entry in a datapad calendar. A glimpse that she had before.....

Before she had left the owner of the datapad to his wheeling and dealing; to his moving and shaking. She pads over to her own clothing and pulls out her datapad from its pocket in her jacket. She enters a combination of numbers and letters into a link.

While she waits for the connection, her eyebrow raises as she spies a thermal caf cup, its fragrant steam touching her nostrils. She picks up the piece of flimsi attached to it. She smiles at the memories from the simple message.

_Clear skies, Zoomie._

It is signed with a simple Aurabesh letter. The arrow of _Trill_. The initial of the name that she had known him by. Coupled with the traditional spacer's farewell and the nickname that the deck-apes and groundpounders had for Naval fighter pilots.

Her reverie is interrupted by a chime from her pad. Her eyes narrow as she reads the called up calendar entry. A Holonet link is embedded. She clicks on it.

A plain advertisement with no bells and whistles. Plain, as if the owners of the fine establishment don't care if anyone ever visits. 

An establishment with food and service so horrible that it discourages repeat customers.

An entry for an appointment in a familiar calendar. The calendar of the man who gave her his name.

Fantos Shaizan.

She calls up another site. _Good. My name is still on all of his accounts. Including the corporate ones._

After an hour of reading, with her temper steadily increasing, she closes the file. She saves it to her datapad and thinks of a troll that she met in a restaurant bar. One that had been charming, and then had immediately made an inappropriate comment. She pulls up her comm and finds a particular code.

She smiles as the file uploads.

She punches another code. When it connects, she says, "Your Majesty, I have bad news. I think my asshole of a husband has gone and done something stupid. Or I should say, more stupid."


	24. Chain of Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers. But many more questions.

Bail Organa rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, as he listens to Garm Bel Iblis shout at Mon Mothma. He jerks his head at Gregar Typho. The Captain of the Royal Guard rises painfully and walks over to the two combatants. He motions to Sabe', who also rises. 

"Since the two of you cannot seem to come to any sense of agreement on anything, I am going to separate you. Mon, Captain Typho will take you to your wing. He is injured, but I still trust him more than any other man to protect you." Mon nods and rises. She smiles gently and takes his arm in hers. "Please, Captain. Lean on me. I won't tell your boss." Gregar laughs as they leave the room.

Garm is looking at Bail with an unreadable expression. The leader of the government of Alderaan, and its elected representative to the Republic and now Imperial Senate, smirks triumphantly. "Since you seem to be the one acting the most childishly, I have decided to provide you with security from someone who has the most experience dealing with a child."

"May I present Sabe'? Princess Leia's Chief Attendant and Guardian." Garm's expression becomes much more readable as his eyes flash. "Organa..." he growls.

"I don't want to hear it, Garm. Get the hell out of my sight." Garm takes a deep breath and calms. He stands and smiles at Sabe.' He holds out his own arm. The bodyguard looks at it like it is diseased for a moment. She softens and takes the arm. "Alright, Senator. I'll play the charm game."

The door closes behind them. Draq' Bel Iblis and Nola Vorrserrie enter from the other side of the ornate room. "Why the hell didn't I think of that? Hire a babysitter?" Draq' says with a grin.

"Sabe' will make me pay for this, I am sure," Bail says with his own grin. "She is used to four year olds. It may be a challenge to step back down to deal with your son, Dragon."

The Senator sobers. "Do we have any more idea of what is going on?" he asks. 

Draq' hands he and Nola a pair of snifters. "A little bit. One set of scumbags are paying another set to disrupt relations between Chandrila and Corellia so that as-yet-unnamed scumbags can benefit. Unnamed scumbags who have an Imperial stench about them."

"Colorful, but could you elucidate a bit?" He smirks. "That means clear it up," he says. Nola chuckles. _It is good to hear her laugh_ , Bail thinks.

"Smartass," the Procurator-Fiscal and External of Corellia says to the Viceroy and Senator of Alderaan.

Draq' takes a sip of his brandy and nods approvingly. "The Antols, who you may or may not be familiar with, suddenly have entered the non-profit do-gooder realm. There is a non-profit called Eleuthera that is supposedly based on Chandrila. It supposedly helps relocate refugees."

"I have heard of it, but Breha may have more information on it. She is more closely involved in this than I am."

"Don't worry, between Riyo Chuchi, her slicer, and my little asshole, I have learned more about this thing than I ever wanted to know."

Bail smiles. "Good to see that the Senator seems to be working out."

"Yeah. She has a very big heart, but there seems to be one of larceny in there, as well."

"Just what we need. Another one."

Nola takes over. "The assassin that hit Garm was supposedly an employee, as well as being an activist for the Head of State's Party." She looks at them both. "Supposedly is the operative word for both. Even though he had an ID, the Party says they have no record of them."

"Chandrilan Security, on the authority of a certain Senior Inspector in the training division of CorSec," she gives a hooded look to the Dragon, "and counter-signed by the Procurator, has looked into this. They found no one at the address, with a comm-mail box that went to the first group of scumbags."

"So this is where the Antols come in?" Bail muses. "They have started to move in on Alderaan. I don't seem to be making headway like I would like against them."

"Well, they are ensconced in Naboo fairly well. Plus there is a connection to Pantora, but only peripherally. The nonprofit seems to have stolen Ion Papanoida's ID to buy a docking bay," Draq' says. 

"A docking bay where an Imperial Revenue Squadron that is not a Revenue Squadron is located. Apparently a different division of ISB." Nola muses.

"Yep. Operation _Windfall_. Joint op with Intel. After we got there, the whole Flotilla, its V-Wings, the whole shebang had already pulled out. For parts unknown."

"You mentioned Maliky earlier?" Bail asks Draq'. "Yeah. We got attacked by a bunch of assholes on Pantora. Couldn't get back to our ship. Wound up taking a ship that had an eventual pedigree to Maliky." His face darkens. "A ship that you have actually been on in another lifetime."

The Corellian's eyes track to the fire in memories at Bail’s questioning look. "The Republic light frigate that Dani was pulled off of by the Republic. When Palpatine PNG'd her." 

Bail's eyes grow wide at the connections. The memory of a young Corellian officer who had done more to protect innocents in the cauldron of the War than most, being declared 'persona non grata' and exiled from the Republic. If the rumors were to be believed afterwards, she was exiled from the love of her life.

A love who died in Order 66 on Kamino. "Got the last laugh though. We condemned it and I bought the damned thing at auction," Draq' says as he smirks. "The _Draq'stone_ might be useful."

There are two Alderaani eyerolls in the room.

"It gets worse, as far as the Antols go," Draq' says, his eyes flashing. "We tried to get close to them. We got shut down because someone higher up than Kolan had the bastards listed as 'informants."

"So what is the chain?" Bail asks. Nola speaks up. "I've looked at everything that Draq' and his people have come up with. It looks like the Antols are laundering spice money through the non-profit, which may or may not have a connection to both Chandrila and Corellia, with the ISB thrown in."

"We have been digging deeper into the connection with Corellia. Mon's assassin had been fired. We haven't found any others involved in warning the Antol's vessel. Most of the warnings seem to occur when the Imps were there from that Revenue flotilla."

All of them are silent as they drain their brandies. Draq' notices that Nola's eyes are distant as they think and wrestle with the chain.

She looks at both of them. "Is it possible that Maliky is ISB?" Her dark eyes lance into them. "Or the ISB is Maliky?"


	25. Welcome to Krownest. Now Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cousins talk. In-laws and outlaws on a wintry world.

Dani Faygan turns to the back seat of the old _Nu_ -class assault shuttle. She smiles as she watches Bryne Covenant sleep. She had not mentioned the last night's pain and warmth. Nor had she mentioned the fact that the Queen had come and visited her during the night.

She thought about the message that she had for her foster-sister. That it was safe for her to come home and visit her family. That she would have the Queen's protection.

For what that was worth. 

She and Kylantha had sat and talked. They talked of the spreading Imperial oppression. Of Kylantha's aim to keep it to a minimum on Naboo. Of her refusal to dissolve the Naboo Royal High Council, despite the pressure of her Imperial 'advisor.'

In the end, Dani had agreed to pass on the message to Nola. She would also accompany her to the house. She pushes thoughts of other emotions and sensations shared to the back of her mind. For later.

It might be time for the Vorserries to meet the man who had moved Jedi, pirates, ex-Sith, Corellians and clone troopers to rescue their daughter from a Separatist slug named Durd.

She smiles as she feels the green gaze of that young, stubborn, galaxy-mover on her neck. She checks the navicomputer, then hits the switch to move the tandem seats down. They both unstrap and stretch.

She walks up to him and pulls him into a tight embrace. Her lips touch his gently. "Made some caf, love, if you want it."

"Thanks, Dani," he says. She kisses him again; her tongue touching his. "You want to lay on my couch and talk about it?"

"About what?" he asks innocently.

"The fact that you and your guard buddy were at times making me want to explode and then making me want to come in there and rock you both to sleep to take away the pain."

He has the sense to look sheepish. "Sorry, Dani. I don't know what that was," he says. He runs his fingers through his hair. She walks over to the caf machine and pours them both cups. "Damned caf machine is the most expensive and highest market thing on this hunk of junk."

"Well, blame the women in my life. They can't seem to function without it."

"Oh, just the women, huh? Don't seem to see you being too lucid right now, buddy boy," she snarks. She sits on the couch and pats it. 

He rolls his eyes. He walks over and places his cup in the holder on the shelf next to the couch. He sits. 

He doesn't protest as she draws his head into her lap. He grins. "I am no expert, but I don't think that head-shrinkers are supposed to use this as a technique."

"They do on Zeltros. Both parties are usually naked, as well," she says with only a slight twinkle in her purple eyes.

"I'm game if you are," he says. "Maybe later, dear," she replies. "Besides," she says with a hint of mystery, "I never took my boards. I am just a well-educated flatfoot."

"I'd would put you ahead of any of those assholes with letters behind their names," he says quietly, 

They are silent, drinking in the calm. "So," Dani says, "are you okay?"

"I guess. Lot of memories in the fore last night. She led me to Jana, who led me to Master Ti, who led me to you, who led me to Lassa, who led me to Ahsoka. Then it all started over again."

"Great. I led you to thinking of a fucking psychopath."

"Yeah. You're just jealous you never got invited into the bubble bath." She snorts. "Yeah, well. She was probably do-able, but the stab wounds that I got kind of cured me of that thought."

She sobers. "What about Hana? What was she remembering?"

He smiles tightly. "The war. Jana Sloane made her, as well as our buddy Kolan." He smirks. "Kinda wished she had held off on him."

"Yeah? Seems like you made him a few months back."

"Funny. Still don't remember a damned thing. Must not have been all that great."

"I believe that we in the headshrinking field have a fancy name for that. It's called denial."

"You could always try it, Daaineran," he says. "Either that or his junior varsity."

"I enjoy a challenge, Bryne, my dear." Her eyes grow sad as she thinks of the past. "I miss your Master, heart of my heart," she says softly. 

Covenant smiles wistfully at her and reaches up to touch her face. "I know, sweetie. I do too."

Dani shakes her head as the ghosts intrude. "What about Ahsoka, Bryne? Your hunt-sister? Do you think that she survived?"

She sees the pain flow through his gaze. It is gone. Suppressed as quickly as it appeared. "I don't know. There was something in her captain's eyes when I last saw him. He was avoiding talking about her. I put it down to it being too painful. But it could be something else."

He takes a sip of his caf. "I have been feeling some things in my Force sense that I cannot explain. I know that I have only had it back a little while, but something is off."

"Was that what your 'seizure' was on Pantora?"

His eyes narrow, as if looking off into the far distance. "I don't know. It felt like someone I knew was in great pain, but I couldn't reach them. I felt something similar after the operation in the Bonu-Delan sector. Just before you found me."

A beep intrudes from the cockpit. "Coming up on Krownest, dear. Another twenty minutes or so after reversion. Didn't want us to jump right in and scare your kinfolk."

"Good move." He starts to rise. She takes his face in her hands. "You know that I am there for you, right? For whatever you need. Whether it is this," she says, pointing to her heart, "or this," she points to her head, "or this." She points much lower. He nods and kisses her quickly. "I know, love," he says. A dangerous look flows to his features. "Time to put my game face on."

~+~+~+~+~+

The pilot seats lower again as the _Laughing Beskad_ approaches the small world. Dani turns around. The sarcastic riposte dies on her lips as she sees him for the first time in full armor, with no concealment. With the mismatched clone commando's helmet in place.

Her eyes soften as she sees the orange and black handprint on the heart of the dark green breast plate. The thin purple sash around the chest, knotted particularly, an honorific unique to Clan Skirata. The clan of the old warrior who had taken him in after his universe died. 

She stands and takes him in her arms. With strong hands, she disconnects the _buy'ce_ and removes it. Without a word, as if daring him to speak, she kisses the handprint, her lips lingering. Her lips track up to his and they breathe.

"Come on _Mando'ad_. Let's go meet your in-laws. She starts to the pilot's chair. He places his hand on her upper arm. "Hey," he says quietly. "I know that you are probably the better pilot, but it might be better if I am up front."

A smile flows to her crimson features. "Sure thing, _alor,_ " she says. With a gentle movement, he moves his gloved fingers through her hair, over one of the natural blue streaks in the brown mass, now grown back out, now that her head injuries have lessened.

As they rise back up into the cockpit, he thinks of the past for a brief moment. Of the last time that he was here. Another beautiful warrior behind him; a warrior who he had planned to share his life with.

He shakes his head and curses into his bucket, now donned again. _You share your life with the woman behind you, now, dumbass. Just like you share your life with the Dragon; with your big brother._

He whispers a phrase he thought that he would never say again. _It is as the Force wills it._

He hears the phrase repeated in his mind. In four distinct overlaid voices. The strongest in the high, clear voice of a younger huntress.

He clears his mind as the sense of peace flows over him.

Behind, Dani can sense the change in his emotions. She smiles warmly. _Live, my lad. Live.  
_

The sense of peace lasts approximately two minutes. Until four _beskar'gam_ -clad warriors rocket into formation in the upper atmosphere.

The leader points forward with a knifing motion of a gloved and vambraced hand. Dani can sense the smirk on Covenant's face.

"Be nice, Inspector," she says. A grating voice speaking in the language of this sector. "Do not deviate from your course, _Beskad_. We will destroy you, if you do."

"Blah, blah, blah," says Covenant. 

One of the _Mando'ade_ lands on the left wing of the ship. Dani closes her eyes, then looks skyward. She feels the slight roll as her pilot drops the wing from under the warrior's feet and then raises it again, striking the feet of the interloper.

Sending her in a spiral until she is able to regain control.

"That may cost, you, _dar'manda_ ," a voice says in Basic. "Maybe I'll be the one that the alor allows to end you, once and for all."

"What does that word, mean, Bryne?" Dani asks. "It means that my asshole in-laws consider me not to be Mando."

She smiles softly. _Few that I know deserve the title of Mando'ad_ , more, bud, she thinks.

They manage to land without further bruises or bloodshed.

Mando warriors, dressed in drab colors; few with any brightness, watch them warily as their leader escorts them to the great hall.

An unfamiliar male stands in front of the seat, his bucket off. He stares at them with an angry gaze.

There is silence as Dani and Bryne return his gaze; Bryne with his helmet on.

"Take this _d'kuht_ out and shoot him," he says. "Strip him of that armor first. He doesn't deserve to wear it." 

Covenant's controlled voice comes through the speaker of his buy'ce. "I'm here to speak to the Countess, not some second-stringer," he says. "I think that we will wait on her."

"I decide what we do, here. I will handle the Countess's problems for her," he shouts. He calms, his contorted face moving back to placidity. He looks at Dani. "I think that the Zeltron will be turned over to our warriors for their morale." An absolutely evil smirk spreads across his face. "We'll send what is left back to Corellia."

Dani looks at Covenant. "You know, I am seriously wondering how a family that produced someone who was your heart could have so many assholes in it," she says, her warm smile unbothered by the posturing from the dais.

"I think that she was adopted," he says. They notice several warriors moving towards them. Without warning to him or to their problems, Dani draws a blaster from behind her with her left hand and sends two bolts into the knees of one of the Mandos. 

Bryne smirks behind his helmet as he sees the warrior fall, clutching both knees. _Two perfect shots in the joints of the armor. You've been holding out on me, cyar'ika,_ he thinks, as he swings his own DC-15S up on the assault harness to cover the fool on the dais. The warriors who remain standing begin to move in cautiously. "What are you waiting on, you cowards? They are only two, and one is unarmored. Kill them both!" the chief fool shouts.

"Stop!" comes a high, childish voice. A tiny figure, dressed in miniature armor and helmetless runs up and hugs Covenant around the waist. His eyes widen and his heart falls as he looks down on the familiar dark eyes and bronze skin of a little girl smiling up at him. " _Ba'vodu!_ " she exclaims. 

Covenant's eyes harden as he realizes that the Mandos still hold their weapons on them. With the little girl in the line of fire. He checks his rear and swings her around behind him. He draws a bead on the head of the spokesidiot. 

"Stop! Right now. Stand down," comes a strong voice from the same direction as the child came.

Ursa Wren, Countess, and _alor_ of Clan Wren, of House Vizla looks on the scene. "You dare hold a weapon on my daughter? Get the hell out of my sight!" she shouts, the anger dark on her features. 

The remaining warriors hasten to obey. Her face softens at the trio in the center of the audience chamber. "Ahh, you do manage to piss people off, _be'vod-riduur_."

Covenant bows his head. "It is a gift, _alor_."

Ursa smiles at the tiny figure who is shielded by her uncle. "Bine, love, you really shouldn't run ahead. You never can tell what your older uncle's idiots are going to do."

Her eyes darken as she sees the figure on the dais. "Bine, why don't you take your _ba'vodu_ and show him some of your drawings. It is about time for your nap. Maybe he will rock you to sleep, as he once did." Her eyes glisten briefly. "When your _ba'vodu_ Lana wasn't marching far away."

The little girl looks to argue, but a look from her mother stills it. She takes Covenant by the hand as he moves his weapon to a place of rest on his side. Covenant turns his bucket to Dani. "She will be safe," Ursa says. "She is more of a guest than you are, _atin_." Her eyes narrow, their dark gaze locked on his faceplate. "That shooting party is only temporarily in abeyance, King," she says, her voice low with menace. "But she will be safe. She hasn't disappointed me. Yet."

As the door closes behind them, the idiot walks towards her, "Countess, I just wanted to...."

His words end in a choke, as a long-bladed knife slices into his throat. The blade is wiped on his face and back in its sheathe before he falls to his knees, bright arterial blood spurting between his fingers. He chokes through the blood and the ruined voicebox before he slumps.

"Does anyone else want to presume to deny hospitality to guests of mine? To listen to my younger brother's whisperings, as well as that of the smarter shrew that he mated with?"

She smiles at the stunned silence. "Good. I didn't think so." She walks down to Dani and takes her hands in hers."Welcome to Krownest, my dear. And who might you be? I see that King still has excellent taste in beautiful, dangerous women." Her dark eyes tear again. "As _riduur'e_ or as _vod'e_."

_As mates or as sisters._

Or somewhere in between.


	26. Interventions: Alderaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stubborn Senators come to an understanding.

Breha Organa-Antilles, Queen of the System and world of Alderaan, and undisputed head of her household, watches as her daughter eats her breakfast. Usually any meal with her daughter entails cajoling, playing, or a test of wills that Breha really doesn't have the energy for these last few days. Between the violence on her world, the worry between the brows of her beloved, the injury to Ahsoka, and the childishness of the elected representatives of the sovereign worlds of Chandrila and Corellia, she truly does not have the patience for dealing with an intransigent four year old.

 _Four and a half,_ the Leia-voice in her head states stubbornly. The phrase that is the standard punctuation of any argument that she and the Princess Royal engage in. The Queen sighs, thinking of the unequivocal love for her daughter.

But also of the fact that her daughter is the natural product of two of the most stubborn, but most loving people in the Galaxy.

Her expression darkens as the thoughts of the darkness that cascaded over the galaxy from one of those individuals. 

Her eyes start away from dark thoughts as a small hand tugs at her dress. "Finished, Mama," the bright little face says with a smile. She nods her thanks to the young woman who has just finished wiping the remains of the repast from Leia's face. She pulls her daughter into her lap.

The little girl's arms go around her neck and an oatmeal-scented kiss is planted on her cheek."You okay, Mama?" the terror asks in a soft voice.

_The two most loving people in the Galaxy._

"I'm okay, love. Just got some things to do."

"Mama, is 'Soka coming back anytime soon?"

Over the girl's dark hair, Breha closes her eyes. When she opens them, her husband is standing in the door. The look of love and sympathy in his eyes nearly overwhelms her.

"She'll be back, soon, love. Maybe another month." His eyes darken. "Even then, she may not be able to go swimming for awhile."

"Why not?" Breha realizes that Bail is no longer going to skirt around the grievous injuries and tell the truth.

_Or some part of it._

"She was doing something offworld. Something important. She got hurt. She just needs some time to get better," he finally says.

Breha feels the young girl tense in her arms. "Is she going to be okay?"

Both parents smile at the concern in her voice. _The love._

"Yes, my little Queen," her father says. "She will, but she will need lots of rest."

"Can I help her rest?" 

The earnestness of the request brings a soft smile from her father. "I think she might like that. When she is ready."

"Good. Maybe we can sit and draw, if she feels like it."

When Bail and Breha had first discussed building a movement, a movement to restore hope to the darkness, they had discussed how much the Queen would be involved.

_No, they had argued._

In the end, they had agreed that she would be the silent partner in the endeavor. Being kept out of the day-to-day, but as everything in their marriage, a full partner in discussions of the immense task.

They had agreed to keep Leia out of it as long as possible. In their hearts, knowing who she is and how she is being raised, she will eventually be a part of the task.

It will take that long to build.

But a chance meeting on the shore of a beautiful lake, between a little girl and a powerful, but still lost warrior had fostered a connection. Breha smirks. A warrior wrapped in a towel after her swim. A connection that brought some joy to both, while keeping Fulcrum's identity secret.

Breha's eyes tear for the day that Leia will have to be told, 'Soka will not be able to swim with her and run through the mountains with a little girl on her shoulders. Because of the secrecy.'

Or because she is no longer alive or whole to do so.

She notices that Bail is looking at her. "It's time," he says. She plants a kiss on the hair of the little girl.

She rises. _Time for more babysitting._

~+~+~+~+~+

Garm Bel Iblis walks into the solarium of the large house. His expression grows thunderous. 

Mon Mothma sits on the couch. 

For the last several days since his arrival, they had managed to avoid each other.

His eyes track around the room. His father leans against the mantlepiece of the fireplace, a caf cup in his hand. His piercing blue eyes look at him with an expression that he had only seen rarely since adulthood.

The look of a parent tired of a child's actions. 

Garm's eyes widen as he sees the others in the room. Bail Organa stands at the bright windows looking out at the morning sun. 

Breha and Riyo Chuchi sit talking quietly on a couch. They fall silent as they gaze at him.

_Like some new form of bug._

He walks over to the breakfast buffet and begins to fill a plate. As he sits his plate down on a small table away from all, he turns to fill a cup.

A tall figure with a sardonic look in her eyes hands him a cup, already prepared. He sips it and nods approvingly. 

Nola Vorrserrie does not return his smile. Her eyes grow sharper. She turns around and walks away.

Garm realizes that she is the only one armed.

"So, is this where you all try to convince me of the error of my ways?" he asks, an edge to his voice.

The collective eyeroll can be felt on the Five Brothers. "No, asshole. If that were true, I wouldn't need any of these others here." his father says.

The staredown between father and son lasts for several moments. Finally, Mon rises from her couch. She walks over to him. "Garm, we have both made mistakes. But if we are going to make this thing work," she says, placing her hand on his arm, "it will need both of us. It will need Corellia, as well as Chandrila."

"We are seeing the fruits of too extreme of a movement; of moving too fast on Stornan, now." Riyo Chuchi says quietly. "There is a young woman floating in a bacta tank, fighting to keep the use of her hands, as a result of that extremism."

There is a muffled curse as Nola Vorrserrie turns and stalks from the room.

Breha starts to rise to follow, but Riyo puts a gentle hand on her arm. The Pantoran shakes her head. After a moment, Breha relaxes.

Garm turns his attention to the Chandrilan holding his arm. He closes his eyes for a moment. He sees himself looking out over the assembled Senators in the past.

Of taking a stand; the only way he knew how at the time. He remembers looking over at the young Zeltron woman in the pod with him. Of her careful smile and slight nod. _Zeltron, but Corellian at her heart, as well._

He opens his eyes. He places his hand on Mon's. He can sense everyone in the room's eyes on him. 

"I know, Mon. I know that the rebellion needs all of us, to keep each other honest." Everyone starts at his actual speaking of the word. Mon laughs gently. "But I don't think that it is my place to throw a spanner into everything that a lot of people have given blood for. That a lot of people will give blood, and even die for."

He turns and looks at them all. "That is why I can't be a member of the 'board of directors,' or whatever the hell that we are calling this thing."

He turns and focuses on his father. "That is why my father will represent Corellia in the movement." Draq' nods. Garm's eyes track to the floor. "I will continue to support Mon in the Senate, to vote against and speak against the Emperor's policies. I will continue to do what I can to support my father." He smiles. "As well as other members of my family."

His eyes harden. "That isn't to say that I won't take you to task if I think that you are making the wrong calls. I will keep you honest. I will be the voice in your head that might whisper, 'attack', the voice that will push you. But I think that my father will do the same thing. He is just smarter than me."

"I would expect no less, from the son of the Dragon, Garm," Mon says.

"I don't know if I am all that smarter, son," Draq' says. "I have just been at it longer."

He looks at them all. "You know who I am married to. I married for love. I like to think that she did, as well." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "But I know her allegiances. I love her. She will be the mother of my children." He looks at Draq' and smiles. "Sooner than you think."

There is a collective gasp. 

Garm continues. "That is the other reason that I probably should not be in the know on operations. But know this," he says, taking them all in his gaze again, "when the time comes to fight, I won't be in the Senate. I may not know a lot about fighting, other than with words, but I will put my body on the line."

"I will fight with the others. With your Fulcrum." Oddly, for some reason, he sees the face of a tiny Togruta initiate surrounded by gunships landing in a hangar bay. In a building that is now the Imperial Palace.

Draq' walks over to his son. Mon steps aside. "I hope that I have told you this, enough, Garm. I love my entire family." He stops and gathers himself. "But I have never been prouder of you. Especially when you saved our world from the cauldron."

The rest of the powerful people in the room are treated to the sight of the feared Dragon of Corellia embrace his son. Draq' kisses Garm on the forehead.

Everyone is so focused on the scene between father and son, that they don't see the welling blue eyes of the Dragon lock with another set of blue eyes. 

Or see the hand of another powerful leader touch his hand behind his son's back.

~+~+~+~+~+

Boba Fett surveys the hard men and women and others before him. He is angry at his employers for their decision.

Their decision to use these mercenaries to finish the job on the problems of Corellia and Chandrila.

An attack on the estate where both of the Senators are located. An attack that would solve the issue with no further thought of making it look like the two had contracted assassins on each other. 

It would merely kill them. He turns to the man and woman standing next to him. "You should both have the funds in your account. Double your price for the job."

Leve Stane looks at him. "Might get to kill at least one our problems. Got intel that the Senator from Pantora is on Alderaan. We could make it look like part of this op."

"Don't rightly care," Fett says. "I think that we are done, except for command and control. The employers will use their internal solution." He looks at the mostly human and near-human mercenaries. "This might be just window dressing," he says where only they can hear.

He starts to turn away. "The pleasure has been all yours," Jaze says. "Boba, a word of advice. Don't insult the people who could squash you like a bug."

The Fett looks at them. "Don't really see anyone that could do that, here, Stane. You or your psychopathic wife." He turns and walks away. Jaze starts to go after him, but Leve touches his arm.

"Don't, love. We might just need him some day."


	27. Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love and blasters.

Dani Faygan watches the shadowing sun play over the rugged mountains near the stronghold. Snow and cold were not found in great abundance on her birthworld, except in the highest peaks in the interior. Zeltron civilization had grown up in the temperate coastal areas of the beautiful planet.

It wasn't until she had come to her father's world after the death of her mother that she had experienced any type of snow.

A warm smile creases her features. She had spent as much time in the coastal areas of the main continent as she could; near the ancestral lands of the Blackthorns.

The Dragon had insisted that she acclimate to the cold of the mountains and hollows of the original seat of the Elder Family, as well. 

_Probably why I am not bundled in those furs, right now._

Her expression grows pensive as she thinks of her loved ones, both in the Core and on this world.

She thinks of her foster-sister, the pain in her eyes apparent when they had embraced, before Dani had left. An unknown pain, but one that the Zeltron is sure is tied to that tiny world in the Mid Rim; a world that had outsized influence and effect on the galaxy in the last twenty years. 

She had never asked Nola what had happened at Apailana's death on Naboo. She knows that the young Naboo is still filled with guilt at surviving.

Guilt from not being there to die with her fellow Handmaidens and her Queen. Dani shakes her head. _No, there is something more._ A pain that is just under the surface, submerged beneath the thoughts of her responsibilities, as well as whatever it is that took her away from the estate each day, but returned her with fresh pain and thought in her eyes.

Dani shakes her head and centers her thoughts on the man somewhere in this stronghold. She smiles as she marvels at the strength of both of her loves. The strength of Nola to carry on, to protect those two feuding Senators at all costs. Of Bryne being able to return to this world, to face his love's family head on.

All for ideas.

She tenses as she hears footsteps behind her. Firm footsteps with purpose, but from someone smaller and lighter weight than the usual Wren bruiser that she and Bryne had encountered.

She turns as Ursa Wren moves beside her. "Beautiful, isn't it?" she says quietly. 

"Yes it is, Countess." The dark gaze turns on Dani and stares at her. "So what are you to Croft?"

 _So much for small talk._ Her own gaze hardens at the Mandalorian. "I am what he needs me to be," she says, no small amount of iron in her voice. Ursa smiles briefly. Within a moment, the smile is replaced by a hard line.

The dark gaze returns to the view. "You are here to try to get me to end our incursion on Stornan." It is not a question.

"Yes. We are. People are dying because of the depredations of your kinsman. He needs to leave, so that the situation can stabilize. So that when the Empire does come in, the hand might be less heavy."

"From what I hear, Saw Gerrera added to the chaos and death."

Dani smiles. "No one here is saying that he didn't. Mistakes were made on both sides, Countess. But there has to be stability if the Stornani are going to survive this and get something from the windfall on the moons."

The side of Ursa's mouth that she can see quirks upward. "You Corellians. So persuasive." She turns her face to the younger woman. "So good at moving worlds and opening legs." Dani's eyes widen in her crimson face. "Yes, girl. I know who you are." She softens. "I met the Dragon once, when he came to _Manda'yaim_ to see his brother-in-law, the one that married into the Shysas. You have his look about you." She smirks. "Probably a bit of that charm opened some legs on Zeltros a while back." Dani laughs. "You never met my mother. Alyysina Faygan didn't open her legs for anyone that she didn't want to." Her eyes fix on a particular mountain. "I think that they were what each other needed."

Ursa nods. "There is some of that in your hunter's and my _Lana'ika's_ story. They were both broken in their own way, Daaineran. Each made the other whole."

Dani's eyes tear for a moment. She wipes them away. _This is not the woman to show weakness to_. She starts as the older woman's thumb wipes one that she missed from her cheek. Ursa's hand lingers on her cheek, then drops. She laughs at Dani's expression, then sobers. "Don't act so surprised, girl. I saw what he did for my younger sister. I saw the joy in her eyes."

"Holos that I have seen of her, I never saw her not laughing."

Ursa smiles as if at a memory. "She could make anyone laugh. Even those four banthas between us."

Dani looks sharply at Ursa. "Her death nearly destroyed him." She looks away. "Especially on top of other deaths."

"I know what he was, Dani. I am fairly certain that I am the only one here who does." She places her hand on the window. "For a brief time, after I heard reports from the pirate-queen's world, I could rejoice in his pain. In his grief at what he had taken from me. But then I realized that she made her choices. She wasn't talked into anything."

"If anything, she talked him into it, Ursa," Dani says, her eyes sad. The Countess nods. She turns and touches Dani on her arm. "Go. Find your hunter. It is time to talk." She closes her eyes. "I don't know what he can say. We have immense debts to Mandal Motors, debts incurred by my predecessor. The only reason I approved Tommis's little misadventure was in hopes we could pay them off." Her eyes snap open. "Report that to your _abeeyah_ , Dani." Dani smiles at the use of the word. A word from her birthworld.

_Father._

She reaches up and kisses the Wren on her cheek, then turns and leaves her to her own thoughts.

~+~+~+~+~+

Bryne Covenant's green eyes track upwards from the fire as he feels Dani enters the small room. She walks over to him and reaches down. Her lips touch his briefly. She lightly runs her fingers through the hair of the sleeping girl in his arms, her armor now resting on another chair. She stirs and mumbles in her sleep.

There is a sharp smell of paint. Her eyes widen as she sees a new adornment on the armor of one of his birthrights.

A smaller handprint in multiple colors. Purples, oranges, greens, pinks, even a tiny bit of gold. An explosion of color in that tiny handprint. 

The new handprint is opposite the slightly larger one in black and orange. The one that the chestnut-colored head rests against. 

Sabine's left hand still bears some traces of the paint. 

Dani takes his hand in hers. "Come on, love. It's time. Ursa wants to talk."

~+~+~+~+~+

Bail Organa turns as he hears the door close behind him. Draq' stops as he sees two filled brandy snifters on the small table. He smiles and takes them up. He hands one to Bail. They both drink, savoring the taste for just a moment. "Good that I am predictable."

He grows serious. "Just got a comm from Dani. I may have a way out of it for the Wrens."

Bail's eyebrow raises. "I'm listening."

"The Wrens have about 10 million in debt to Mandal Motors. Seems the Countess's predecessor mortgaged everything to the Motors and to Vizla in return for a seat at the 'evil asshole's' table. One of Ursa's siblings got information about the discovery of the Tibanna gas on Stornan, before anyone else did. He took some of their old Death Watch buddies and went there."

"So what? Are we in the business of bailing out terrorists?" Organa asks darkly. Draq' starts to storm, but instead, calmly replies. "Calling the Wrens terrorists might be stretching it a bit. Or at least it might be for the present Countess."

"Your Covenant. He is related to them, right?" Organa asks. Draq' sighs. "By marriage. His late wife was a Wren."

Bail can tell that there is something more, but doesn't ask. "So what is your plan?"

Draq' is silent as he sits and contemplates his brandy. "Mandal Motors has come to us for a bailout, before. I can get them to settle the Wren's debt for much less, maybe even half or a quarter, in exchange for some lucrative bones thrown their way in the future. Especially if we have to play hardball with Sienar or Kuat at some point." He smiles the sharp smile that has been vexing half of the galaxy for nearly forty years. "Wren might not be an ally in this, but if we help them out, she might not stand in our way." The smile fades. "She might also be able to quell her kin a bit."

Bail is thoughtful. "What do you need from me?"

"I need that little _Akul_ of a Senator from Pantora. I think she might be able to lend some muscle, especially with her success in wresting money from certain parties."

Bail smiles. "She comes from a cold planet. I think she might be persuaded to go to Krownest."

"I could probably use some seed money, as well. We have some funds that we have, ah, acquired from certain crime families in the last two days that have been smuggling spice. Might be a good source if we have to finance any insurgency on Stornan. It doesn't have any provenance from us or any other good guys."

"I would question if you are one of the 'good guys,' Dragon," Bail says dryly.

"Just good at it."

~+~+~+~+~+

Finder Skon watches as a former Handmaiden goes over the defenses of the estate with a practiced eye. He smirks as she actually gets down to the prone on a hill to sight the windows. He notices her looking in particular at the spacings of the Imperials in the perimeter. She stalks down to the command post. His eyebrows raise with the continued smirk as he hears her voice tearing into the naval officer in charge.

She stalks out of the command post. His smirk turns into a grin as he sees the troopers redeploying.

Redeploying in a tighter perimeter. She turns her eye to the inner perimeter. He can see her brow furrowing. He touches her on the arm. "Your Grace," he begins. She starts. "Huh? Oh," she says. "What, Finder?" she says, her mind elsewhere. He reaches down and takes her hand.

He doesn't lose the member. "Nola, I...." He looks down. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I am sorry. I am sorry for letting you think that I was dead. For drugging you. I know that I did wrong, but I thought it was the right thing to do, then. I didn't want you hurt or dead."

She is silent as she looks at him. He wants to look away from that hard gaze, but he cannot. Her lip quirks up slightly. "I don't know if I can forgive you, Fin. I don't hate you and I am so glad that you survived."

"But something died in me that day, and not just our child." He does look away at that. "I can't even blame you for that. The Finlet might've died anyway." He smiles briefly at the nickname. He sees her hand rest on her belly for a moment. "But the number of people that I truly trust might fill up both hands of fingers. I don't trust, and I try not to get close to many people."

"Nola, one of the things that I loved about you - one that I love, is your heart. Even though you seem to have that hardass exterior, I see how you care for people. I see how your love for your friends and even those two assholes we are guarding cuts you to the bone." His eyes lock on hers. "I see it everyday, wherever you go and come back with your face so full of pain."

"I missed that about you. I will regret to my dying day that I squandered your heart."

He reaches out and touches her face. The familiar warmth, the familiar touch, the familiar size of his hand covers her cheek. She looks down, her eyes with something undefinable in their depths. His own pale blue eyes widen, then soften.

He moves his lips to hers. For a moment, she is unyielding.

Her lips open slightly. His tongue pushes in and meets hers. As their lips continue to explore lost sensations, her hands grab his shirt. They break apart as she pulls him to the house. 

She finds the first open room, a room filled with sheet covered furniture. She grabs the nearest comforter and slings it to the floor. Her hands grab his belt and fumble at unbuckling it while she shoves him to the floor.

He manages to pull her trousers down and off, along with her underwear. At least to her boots. Both of them laugh as she struggles to kick the boots and clothing off of her legs without falling. He opens her shirt and his mouth locks on her breasts. He yelps as she reaches into his trousers and grasps him. One rise from her and she sinks down on him.

As they build to a rhythm, and lights coalesce behind her eyelids, she tries to remember what had been bothering her before this conversation had opened.


	28. Solutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Covenant comes into his role. A Dragon negotiates.
> 
> Confrontations.

"Ursa, you need to get away from the Imperials. The _allit_ will suffer for it," Bryne says. The Countess of Clan Wren shakes her head. "You don't understand, Bryne. The Empire has already started embedding into Mandalore. Those _d'kuhts_ from Clan Saxon, especially Gar Saxon are already taking over. Just in the last few years since the Sieges."

Covenant and Ursa stand out on the balcony overlooking the wintry landscape. Their breaths can be seen as they watch a bundled-up Zeltron and two small children down below, engage in a snowball fight.

The Zeltron, despite her training and tactical skill, is coming out on the losing side. Ursa smiles at the laughing trio. Sabine looks up from burying a snowball in her brother's face and smiles at her mother and her uncle.

Ursa turns to Covenant. "The Empire will require the clans to consolidate under the rule of the Saxons. We will just barely be able to keep clan identity." Her eyes lock on her children. "Saxon has already sent emissaries." She snorts. "Emissaries. They don't even bother with the pretty words of diplomats. They just threaten what will happen if we don't bend knee to them."

Covenant is silent as he watches his nephew and niece. He doesn't know Tristan as well as his sister, having spent more time around the girl. _Probably won't get to know him, if Ursa follows through with this, he thinks darkly. I will most likely be facing them both on a battlefield. As enemies._

The thought chills him. "Ursa," he says, "I have already seen it on countless worlds. I saw it first hand on a couple. The Empire promises order and prosperity, but if you are not in the Core or maybe even a few in the Mid Rim, they are just going to take." He gaze cuts into her. "All _Mand'ayim_ has to offer is the blood of her sons and daughters."

Ursa is silent as she watches the joy of a couple of those sons and daughters. As well as the pure joy of a daughter of two other worlds.

She tries not to see any of the three lying in the snow, their eyes open and staring, their life's blood spilling onto the white.

Her brother-in-law, the love of her little sister's life, touches her arm. "Ursa, family is everything. I know that you have to make decisions for the survival of the Clan. But I ask you to reconsider joining the Empire. For Sabine and Tristan's sakes."

She nods. "It may already be too late. Sabine has tested for the new Imperial academy." The woman's bronze face softens for a moment. "She apparently has an aptitude for explosives and weaponry. Tristan has scored well, also, but apparently has higher scores in diplomacy."

Bryne grins at this. "Who snuck that in?" Ursa matches his grin with hers. "Probably his father. The man talks more than a Corellian. I could barely get him to shut up long enough to mount him properly." As their laughter fades away, she looks at the chest of his armor. She places her hands on the handprints. 

They stand in the cold air, silent, thinking of pasts and futures. 

~+~+~+~+~+

The man once known by a number peers through the scope of his old blaster. He smiles as he thinks of the mileage this weapon and he had traveled. Even after training, he had eschewed the fancy DC-17m that most Republic commandos had taken to. The standard clone carbine had been his weapon of choice since training. He feels a hand on his shoulder. His new apparent adoptive father crouches down beside him.

"Got a problem, bud," Fenn Shy'sa says. 

"Besides the fact that you are whipped by the Protector?" Drop says dryly.

"Yeah. Besides that, Junior. Some of the idiots let Lucre run."

"Shit."

"Very eloquent, son. We may have to move up the timetable on the assault. We are also losing some idiots. It may just be us and my hardasses going downrange."

"Where is Lassa?" the clone asks. 

"She is in far orbit. She is still game, but she running low on fuel. We may have to hit a fuel dump or something." Drop can hear the grin in his voice behind the T-visor. "Maybe we can get it from the Kryze stocks."

Drop raises his eyebrow. "They were the ones who let the witch go," the older man says.

"Here I was starting to have warm feelings for them. Was thinking about moving them from our idiot list."

"Yeah. Their leader seems to have lost the confidence of her troops. Looks like the faceless woman might be moving on her."

"Marvelous. Just when we are getting ahead of everything, we have to deal with in-fighting among our strongest allies." Drop says.

"Yeah, Merrik is so happy, he is about to stroke himself in public."

"Think it's time to be shot of this place, Fenn?"

Fenn is silent behind his bucket. "Yeah, I think so. We have the couple of _Gauntlets_ in reserve. I think Lassa has repaired your ship. I am going to talk to Tehlen."

"That may be the rub, Fenn. She desperately wants to make things right here."

Fenn nods. "I know. She thought that she had found a home." They hear a low rumble from the north, behind them. They turn and look through their optics.

"Looks like the rats are abandoning the ship," Drop muses, pointing to the large freighter rising, a couple of _Gauntlets_ orbiting like a pair of remoras. They focus on the clan sigil on the hull.

The symbol of Clan Kryze. Shy'sa's fellow House members. "Goddammit," Drop curses. Fenn says nothing. "I'll find Tehlen. Let Lassa know."

~+~+~+~+~+

The faceless warrior watches as the settlement recedes from the liftoff. She smiles behind the mask.

She turns to the crew. Twenty families with fifty warriors are now her responsibility. She pulls her _buy'ce_ from her head. 

The true leader of Clan Kryze smiles, her pale eyes surveying her clan. "Make the jump. It is a time for Mandalore. Our resurgence will take years, but it will not take root on distant world."

She turns back to the viewport and thinks about her sister. Her sister, the Duchess of Mandalore, choking out her life on the darksaber in the arms of the _jetti,_ Kenobi.

_I'm sorry, Satine. I will lead us back to the promised land. It may not be your way, but I will do it in your memory._

_A free Mandalore._

Bo-Katan Kryze looks to the future of her clan, and her world.

~+~+~+~+~+

The Imperial commando watches with a smile as she sees the freighter and its attendants rise. _Well, there goes the smartest warriors on Stornan,_ she thinks. She turns to her second. "I think that the insurgency might be petering out, finally. I think the others will fall into line." The second nods. "Yes, I agree. I have already gotten some feelers from Clan Merrik about ending this thing."

"What should we do about those Death Watch assholes? They seem to be causing the biggest problem," another commando asks.

"Let's see if we get a message through to wait on the Major when she can get out of hyperspace. I think that we might be ready to take more control of this thing." The junior officers salute.

Cantos Lardai continues to watch the two sides. The Death Watchers holed up in a small farmstead outside of the settlement. The Protectors and the locals watching warily, waiting to see what the new balance of power is.

Lardai smiles. _I know who the power is._

~+~+~+~+~+

Draq' Bel Iblis walks into the reception hall on the frozen world. Riyo Chuchi walks next to him, her head held high. He marches up to the center of the room. He sees Bryne Covenant standing off to the side, a small girl-child next to him, looking up at him with a sort of awe. Dani stands next to him, smiling at the dynamic between the ex-Jedi and the girl.

The Dragon spies the powerful leader of Clan Wren on the dais. He smirks as he sees Bryne and Dani shoo the little girl to the dais to stand next to the Countess. He sees the Countess eyeing him expectantly. He makes a decision. 

He turns and walk over to where Dani and Bryne stands. He stops about a meter and half in front of them.

Dani instantly knows what he intends. He winks at her as she takes two steps back from Bryne.

Draq' Bel Iblis faces his nephew and slowly and very deliberately bows to him.

Bryne starts to smirk; he then senses out of the corner of his eye, that Dani Faygan, nominally his boss, has turned and bowed as well. He turns and sees Riyo Chuchi mimicking them. 

The shock coming from the Mandos in the chamber is palpable. Ursa eyes him and very slowly smiles.

Bryne reaches to the neck of his armor, and down into the opening. His fingers snag on a chain and he brings it out to rest between the handprints on the _beskar._ An ancient silver totem. The symbol of the protector of his world.

He returns the gestures quickly. He sees the hidden smirk on Bel Iblis's face as he speaks. "We are at your disposal, your Eminence."

The look on the Dragon's face as he says this says, _Don't let it go to your head, asshole._

"Carry on with your message to the Countess, Procurator." Both bow again. Draq' approaches the Countess and bows again. The Countess returns the bow with a brief nod. She smiles and motions he and Riyo to another room.

Dani's expression is priceless. She give voice to what the Dragon's expression said. "Don't let it go to your head, sport," she says in her warm voice. "Remember, I have seen you naked. I know all of your shortcomings."

The Covenant and Protector of Corellia, heir to the Electoral Signet and Defender of the Sovereignty of the Five Brothers, turns and glares at the helmeted Mandos behind him. A collection of warriors who are currently snickering at him.

At least one female voice says, "We want details, Dani."

Apparently his nominal boss has already made friends.

~+~+~+~+~+

Draq' accepts the glass of _netra'gel_ from Ursa. The three of them drink first, and then toss the glasses into the fire. "So what was that theater in there, Dragon?" Ursa asks. "He introduced himself as an Inspector of CorSec."

"It was putting you and your hardasses on notice that he is a representative of the Elder House of Corellia. The only remaining one. That any assault on him was an assault on my worlds. We would not look favorably on it."

She smiles a close approximation of his own Dragon smile. "I think I have already addressed that with my 'hardasses' as you call them. You might've noticed the fresh bloodstains on the floor. Those are the leavings of the last one who tried to kill him."

Draq' nods. "Just so we are clear." Ursa eyes him for a moment. "Bryne, as you know him now, gave someone dear to me a great deal of life and happiness. I may have to fight him because we are on opposite sides, but he is also dear to me for that love."

Draq' glances at Riyo for a moment, as she listens intently. "From what I understand, she did the same for him," he says quietly.

Ursa nods. "Are you here to tell me to get out of Stornan, as well?"

"No. I am here to let you know that Corellia has made mistakes on Stornan, as well. As has Chandrila. We are attempting to extricate ourselves from our encumbrances. But I am also here to let you know some things that Bryne did not know clearly."

"Go on," the Countess of this world says. 

"Your soldiers have been paid by money gleaned from spice smuggling, laundered through a non-profit whose original intent was to aid refugees, but was only a front. We have no proof, but we think that the nonprofit is related to a known slaver." Ursa has listened politely, until the last word is mentioned. Her eyes narrow. She looks away for a moment.

After several moments, she looks him directly in the eye. "I did not know this. I would have not authorized this operation, if I had. I may have been in Death Watch, to preserve the old ways, but that does not define us as a clan."

"So we can count on you to abandon this folly?"

"No."

Riyo can see the Corellian's anger rise. "I am sorry, Dragon," Ursa says. "I cannot get out of this. We have debts. Debts incurred rashly by my predecessor, but we are honor bound to pay them. This represents our last hope to get out from under them, so that we are our own clan again and not mortgaged to the hilt."

Riyo steps up. "We actually have a way to address this." Ursa shakes her head. "I will not trade one debt for another," she says vehemently. 

"It won't be," Riyo says. "It will be for performing a service."

Wren takes a deep breath. "Go on. I am listening."

"Corellia will help us to negotiate your debt down to a half or quarter of what you owe. They have a certain amount of, uh, leverage with Mandal Motors. In addition, we will pay your debts for you. Corellia has confiscated a great deal of the spice smuggling money. We will use some of it to pay the debt."

Ursa's eyes flash. "You cannot buy Clan Wren's loyalty. We will not stand with you if what you stand for is against our interests. 

_Meaning any type of rebellion against the Empire,_ Draq' thinks, but does not say. 

"Again," Riyo says patiently, "it is not our intent to hold you in our debt. Corellia has agreed to forgive your debt, free and clear. In return, you and my world will enter into an agreement to help us gain some concessions from Mandal Motors, as you still have a seat on the board."

For the first time, Ursa Wren smiles. "Because Corellia is not exactly in good with the board now, since you have been balking at forgiving their debt to you."

Riyo smiles. "You might think that, but I couldn't possibly comment."

Ursa is silent again for a moment. "What assurances do I have in this?"

Draq' answers. "Senator Chuchi is our advocate and agent in this. She is an excellent negotiator. She will stay here to draft an agreement, to make sure that you are satisfied."

Ursa walks over to the balcony and opens the door. She steps out into the frigid air. She closes her eyes as the wind blows over her face. She turns to Draq' and Riyo. "I will have to go to Stornan myself and get my brother out of there." She looks at the Corellian. "May I borrow your Dani, Dragon?" 

He narrows his eyes at her choice of words. "She seems most capable," the Countess explains. "I think it would not be good to take your Covenant. He and Tommis have an unfortunate past."

Draq' rolls his eyes. "I get that a lot about him." All three of them smile. Ursa's smile fades. "Remember, Dragon. We are not committing to any course of action. We will merely aid you and Pantora in making inroads with those asses at Mandal Motors."

He holds out his hand and takes hers. "Agreed, Countess." 

She nods and releases his hand. "Let's get started. I may have to shoot my brother or his wife. It will be good to have Dani along," she says.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola Vorrserrie comes awake to a pleasant sensation, but also to a low noise from outside. The pleasant sensation comes from the mass of warm Naboo male lying against her, as well as the aftermath of sensations coming from between her legs.

She takes a moment to think about what she had just done. _Dammit, Nola, somebody looks at you with big sad blue eyes and you open yourself up._

Another part of her brain says something differently. _It ain't that simple, Last Word. You are both survivors of a cataclysm. You take what you need._

The voice of that part of her brain surprisingly speaks with a warm Corellian drawl.

The voice of a man with no small acquaintance with cataclysm and slaughter. She reaches down and kisses Finder gently. He stirs, but does not waken.

Her eyes come alert to the other reason she had awakened. She pulls her shirt back up from where it has pooled at her waist and closes it. She pads outside to the windows. She can hear low murmurs close to the house. She brings the night vision goggles she had snagged from her belt to her eyes.

She sees the inner perimeter of Alderaani guards. She realizes that they are spread too far out.

Just like the Imperials had been. She looks further out. There are no heat sources where the fleet troopers are supposed to be.

She suddenly remembers what had been bothering her. The testimony of the one surviving Naboo guard from her own personal cataclysm. Just before he died.

_The perimeter guards were too far spread out. The Imperials walked right in._

Her eyes widen in horror as she realizes who else was at that cataclysm. The night vision locks on one gap.

A gap where two files of intruders are moving quietly towards the house. She runs back into the room and grabs her blaster. She pauses to kick Finder. "Get the fuck up."

She doesn't wait for him to rise. She reaches the window and breaks it with the blaster. Without hesitation she sights on the intruders, and opens fire.

She hears the house come awake at her blasterfire.


	29. Nola's Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ISB saves the day. At least in their mind.

Nola Vorrserrie runs while pulling her boots on, Finder Skon on her heels. She nearly bowls Breha over. She doesn't even stop to mutter an apology. "Get your ass under cover," she yells. "Your Majesty," she adds belatedly. She realizes the Queen is dressed in combat armor. She recalls a masked figure wearing an Alderaani general's insignia at the head of a force on a small moon.

A force that had come for her and Fulcrum on faith that they would be alive and it wouldn't be a trap. Bail runs up behind his wife, a blaster in his hand and his expression thunderous. "What the hell are you two doing here? Don't you have a palace of your own?" Nola asks.

"Needed to get out, Hand," Breha says. "What have we got?"

"I counted three dozen. They are already past the inner perimeter." She turns and looks at Finder for a moment. "Somebody spread our Alderaani forces too thin as well." Finder meets her gaze calmly. "What the hell are you trying to say Nola?" he asks with fire in his voice. 

"Something I don't have time to say right now. Go down there and get me a report of what we are facing." He makes to argue, but sees the anger in her eyes. He turns without a word.

"How did they get through to our perimeter? Why didn't the fleet troopers stop them?"

"Well, the Imps aren't there any more. Hell, for all I know, they may be the ones attacking us."

"What about reinforcements?" the Queen asks "Already tried. Comms are being jammed."

"Then somebody has to get out of here and get help," Breha says. 

"No. We are staying together. Hopefully someone will hear the blasterfire and call the cops."

"Well, based on the fact that Somar is in charge, it may take them a while to get their thumbs out and respond," Breha says.

"True," Bail agrees. There is a surge in blasterfire. "Well, sounds like Finder is trying rally the troops at least."

"Yeah. He is at least good for something." Breha remains silent, but her expression speaks volumes. Nola tries to ignore her. "At least I changed the codes last night. He can get in, but nobody else can."

"It sounds like our guards are holding their own, for now," Breha says quietly.

"Yeah, but they are stretched thin." Bail nods at her. "There is a lot of dying to be had tonight, Nola," he says, a grave look on his face.

"Yes. I know, Your Majesty. Which is why I need you to get to Garm and Mon. I need you to defend them and yourselves. I know Garm can handle a blaster, but I am not so sure about Mon."

Bail and Breha nod. They turn to go, Breha hangs back for a moment. A look passes between husband and wife. She takes the taller woman in her arms."You make sure that you live, Nola. You have nothing to prove. To Ahsoka, to us, to anyone. Not even to yourself." She looks up at the Hand of the Queen. "Did you and Finder make love?" After a moment, Nola nods. She looks down.

The Queen lifts the younger woman's chin with her fingers. "Was he the father?"

"Yes." Her dark eyes lock on Breha's. "But that time has past. I don't know what I was thinking tonight....," she begins. Breha shakes her head and moves her fingers to her lips.

"Doesn't matter. Like I said, you have nothing to prove. Nothing to explain. To anyone." She reaches up and kisses Nola. "Be careful, No-no. May the Force be with you."

Nola nods. "And with you, Breha," she says. The Queen draws her blasters and turns to follow her husband.

As the royal disappears, Nola turns to follow Finder. She notices that the blasterfire has diminished from the outside.

She hears a noise behind her. Her eyes widen in shock as she opens fire.

Four very large humans, dressed in almost identical cheap suits point blasters at her. She reacts quickly and dispatches two of them with shots to the head. They are quickly replaced by two more bruisers. She notices how the attackers move.

They fire and cover, advancing on her by twos.

She realizes they have military training.

She pulls a small round device from her belt, twists the top and hurls it. She hears the explosion as she turns and runs towards Bail and Breha. She hears the screams as well.

Her only thought is not of the Naboo outside, but more practical concerns.

_How did they get in through the locked door? I just triggered the first explosion._

~+~+~+~+~+

Dav Kolan keys the lock to the ISB office. He walks through the nondescript lobby of the building and nods at the trooper standing guard. He stops as he recognizes the trooper. "Wait a minute. Skaenrerr, is it?" The trooper stiffens. "Yessir," she says. "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the estate." The trooper's eyes look perplexed. "Sir, we received orders to abandon the detail. That the threat was over."

"Who gave that order?"

The trooper's eyes grow fearful. "The order was validated by you, sir."

Kolan's eyes lock on him. "Say what?"

"The order was signed by you, sir." The trooper closes her eyes, as if waiting for the blow.

"Horan! Get your narrow ass out here," comes the bellow. His eyes soften as he smiles at the young trooper. "Go get your buddies, jarhead. Think we will be heading back out."

The trooper braces and bellows, "Aye aye, sir," She grins cheekily and stumbles over herself to get the others.

Horan saunters out into the lobby. "You bellowed, sir?"

"What the hell did you do? Did you countermand the assignment for the estate?"

"Nope," she says. He stares at her. "Get me the commander of that _Venator."_

His eyes flash. "Hurry the fuck up," he yells. He stares at the comm operator. "See if you can raise the protection detail at that estate."

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola tries to move forward to the two Senators and the Organa's positions, but finds herself blocked by another gang of large humans.

She manages to duck around a corner, but not before a blaster bolt sends intense pain along her left hip. A fusillade of shots begins to chip away at the cover of the corner. She gingerly lowers herself to the ground. She takes a deep breath and rolls her upper body out, her own blaster releasing its own salvo.

She is rewarded with cries from her target area. In at least three different voices. She starts to lift herself up back to her cover when her hip locks with intense pain. Her cover is delayed. An opportunist among her opponents takes advantage of the slowed move. He is rewarded by another blaster shot to his head. 

Not before he places a shot in her side. Two more attackers move towards her. She tries to lift her blaster but the right arm will not work properly. The two blasters point at her head.

She is about to close her eyes for the end. She hears two shots, and despite herself, she flinches. The two oversized interlopers, a male and a female, crash to the ground, wounds smoking in their back.

Breha and Bail Organa are suddenly there, lifting her up. The two of them embrace her, careful of her wounds. She shifts her blaster to her left hand and begins to move her right arm in circles on the pivot of her shoulder. Without a word, she begins to hobble towards the place of refuge for two Senators.

~+~+~+~+~+

Bryne Covenant watches as the chaos of hyperspace, with its annihilation of matter and energy, spirals around the old _Consular_. Next to him, in the co-pilot's chair, Draq' Bel Iblis works on a datapad.

The young ex-Jedi marvels at the vagaries of time and space. That he would have ever been on this ship again, the ship with so many memories, is almost overwhelming. Memories of joy and sorrow, of life and death.

Of laughter and light. Memories that had shaped him.

Draq' looks up from his work and watches the play of emotions over his nephew's face. He shakes his head at his own memories. The memories of another face, one so similiar to the man's seated next to him, but with sardonic gray eyes instead of green, and darker hair.

A tall man looking down at a beautiful young woman; her own warm green eyes looking back at him with intense love. A woman holding a baby, wriggling with energy, as the sun plays over the domes of a desolate, ravaged world. A world of rebuilt hope for the man. A world free from a grasping and venal ex-wife and two children who were strangers to him, in their mother's enforced isolation from him.

A blinking light moves them both out of their memories. Bryne reaches up and flips three switches. Draq' pulls back on a lever. The stars return to their familiar pinpricks.

The Dragon shifts his chair to another console. He starts the comm sequence for the palace. His eyes widen as an incoming transmission pre-empts him. 

A miniature version of Gregar Typho floats above the console. "Procurator, we have lost contact with the estate. Transmissions are being jammed and reflected back to us."

"Give me the coordinates, Captain," Covenant says. Gregar nods. As he receives them, he manipulates controls. "Tightening our sensors on the estate," he says. His eyebrows raise. "Getting energy discharge readings on the area." His expression darkens. "Consistent with small arms fire."

"We are mustering PPS forces, but there have been a spate of calls all over the city and the planet tying them up. I am getting the guard force up, seeing that the Queen and Consort are at the estate."

Draq' and Bryne look at one another. They nod in unison. "Stay there. There may be attacks on the Palace. Get us clearance. We're heading directly there."

Draq' flips a switch as the ship begins to pitch sharply downward. "Get off your asses," he says to his protection detail. "Get somebody up here to handle the fire control station.

He looks out at the flash of fire over the shields as Covenant coaxes the sharpest down-angle for re-entry from the ship.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola moves into a large common room. 

A blaster is pointed at her head. After a second, it points upward. Garm Bel Iblis smirks. "Good thing you don't look like our attackers, Nola," he says. She staggers from her wounds. Breha guides her to a chair. Mon Mothma immediately begins to tear strips of cloth from the hem of her tunic.

"We need to get the word out," Nola says. Bail and Breha look at one another. "I think we can handle this. This estate used to be owned by an old friend of our families. You remember that tangle of forest behind it?"

"Yeah. It is one of the reasons we only needed a light watch back there. Nobody could get through it without burning it down."

"Well, that is not exactly true," Breha says. "It is an ancient defense system. There is a pattern; a safe passage or two, if you will." She smirks at Bail. "We happen to know the passages and can get through them, from our days as teenagers coming here."

Nola narrows her eyes at the pair of royals. "Do I really want to know?"

"Not unless you might want to hear about the sex lives of young members of Elder Houses," the Queen remarks.

"No. I really don't." She looks at them. "Can we move Mon and Garm out through it?"

"I don't think so. Garm can't move very fast, from his wound. We can move fast and get help."

Nola comes to a decision. "You both go. You can cover each other; increase the chances of getting through."

Both royals start to protest. "We're not leaving you here, Nola to face this..." She cuts them off. "Nope. No argument. Get your asses out of here. So says the Hand of the Queen and all of that poodoo."

Bail looks at Breha, who is in the middle of an eyeroll. They smile at each other. "You know, this is all your fault," the Queen says. "How is it my fault?" he asks with an incredulous look on his face. "You promoted her."

"Dear, in case you haven't figured it out," Breha says. "Everything is always your fault."

Nola's eyes tear as the two touch her face and move out.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola limps to the door of the room. She peeks around the door. Nola just manages to pull her head back in when a blaster bolt strikes the wall beside her head. She returns fire with her weak hand. She pokes her head out lower down on the door and promptly shoots the thug moving up on her.

A fusillade of blaster shots drives her back into the room. Another thug manages to shove his way in before she can close the door. He carries a repeating blaster rifle into the room. He laughs as he brings it up. Nola realizes she had switched her blaster back to the injured arm as she tries to bring it up.

The thug's laughter dies as a blaster shot sounds from behind him. He twists and falls. His eyes light with recognition.

"Fin," he says. 

Finder Skon fires again into his head.

There is silence as Nola and Fin stare at one another. She realizes that his blaster is now pointed at her.

As well as the Senators standing right behind her. "So you decided that being on the side of the righteous was too boring? Is that why you betrayed the Queen? Why you betrayed me?"

"I never betrayed the Queen, Nola," he says softly. "I just tried to make do with what I had and the Imps were able to exploit it. Drop the blaster, Nola. I don't want to hurt you."

His eyes narrow. "How did you know?"

"Witness reports said that the perimeter guards on Naboo were too thin. Noticed ours were, too. I knew I didn't do it."

He lifts his blaster and points it at her head. "Please No-no," he implores. "I love you."

She drops the blaster. "Now what? Somebody exploit your 'weakness,' again?" she asks. Her voice and eyes are steel.

He smiles. "No. This is Family. Please, Nola, I don't have to hurt you. I just have to kill these two. Just walk away. I'll end them, then we can go away."

Nola says nothing for a moment. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I can't. You know that I can't. I will not let anyone I am protecting die again. Not without giving everything I have," she says. She shakes away the tears starting in her eyes. She notices that his are filling as well.

She steels herself. "You are going to have to kill me, as well. Fin," she says quietly.

"Please, Nola. I can't do that to you. Please."

She shakes her head. He raises the blaster to the level. "I'm sorry," he says again. His finger tightens on the trigger.

There is the sound of three quick shots. Finder's eyes widen. 

They widen at the sight of the smoking blaster in Nola's left hand. A blaster that she had brought around from her back where Garm had passed it to her.

His own blaster drops from his nerveless fingers. He looks down at the three evenly spaced holes in his chest. He tries to speak, but only a bloody froth comes out. He tries to keep standing.

He falls to his knees, then to his back.

Through the froth, he manages to gasp out. "I love you, Nola." His eyes fix on her face. The light dies in them.

Mon and Garm see that her face is expressionless. Her eyes are dry. They both take hold of her arms, as she throws the blaster down.

She slowly sinks to the ground. She sits with crossed legs near his head, her hands on her knees.

There are no longer any tears.

~+~+~+~+~+

Two sets of hard men and women burst through the doors of the room.

Several in Imperial black, led by a Queen and her consort pull up short. They point blasters at the other two warriors. One, a tall older man in a business suit, the other in Mando armor in green and gold. 

The Mando holsters his Corellian blaster and raises his mismatched helmet. He stares at the fleet troopers as if they are a new species of bug. The older man looks at them as if he is about to breathe fire like his namesake.

Two other Imperials walk in. One, a shorter female, looks at the two Corellians as if she will order the troopers to open fire.

The other, a taller, slightly older man - about the same age as the armor-clad male, surveys the scene with amusement. His eyes grow troubled as he sees Nola. "Stand down," he says. "But....," his minion says.

He looks at her without expression and jerks his head. "Out, all of you." He looks at the Corellians and the Alderaani. "This is a local matter. We rendered assistance; now we can leave."

"How understanding, Trigger," the younger Corellian says, an edge to his voice. "You could actually make yourself useful and see about rounding up the assholes that attacked and helping with our wounded."

"I guess that I could do that, King," Kolan says. "Or I could just lock you all away."

"You could, but it might leave a mark." Covenant smirks. "You might not be as pretty."

"Glad that you noticed." He bows to Bail and Breha and exits behind his troops.

Draq' is embracing Garm and Mon. Bryne's eyebrows raise at the latter.

His eyes fall on Nola, sitting alone beside the dead Naboo. He walks over and kneels behind her. Without a word, he puts his arms around her. She leans back against him, her eyes fixed on the dead man.

They both think of lost chances. Of squandered ones.


	30. Interventions: Stornan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Join TaggeCo and see the universe.

Dani watches the chaos of hyperspace play over the cockpit windows of the old shuttle. A ship with so many memories for the man now winding his way back to Alderaan with a Dragon. A ship that technically still belonged to Clan Wren itself. 

_Not just memories,_ she thinks. Her people, with their empathic abilities and the ability to reflect those emotions, usually cannot detect emotional connections to objects and to places that the purveyors of those emotions are not present. 

She closes her eyes as she opens herself up. Emotions, sensations, energies flow into her heart and soul.

The images and sensations of three young people, all fractured in their own way. All of them trying to overcome their birthrights. A powerful young woman, attempting to clean her ledger of the death and destruction of Death Watch. A young man struggling to come to terms with the loss of his family; their slaughter because of who they were, as well as the loss of one of those in particular, a young woman who, by coincidence or some other cosmic design, had shown the young Mando the light as well, merely by fighting the darkness. Dani's eyes begin to stream as she thinks of the third member. A man created for war, for death and destruction, a man broken by that war, a brother to both of them, whose strength and good humor buoyed them.

A brother whose good humor was apparent to all, despite his injuries to his mind and his psyche.

Dani starts as she feels a gloved hand touch her shoulder. She turns and sees Ursa Wren's own dark eyes streaming. The Countess points downward. The pilot's chairs descend. Both women unstrap and walk aft. The Countess busies herself pouring them both cups of caf while Dani sits and attempts to compose herself. 

Ursa walks over to the small couch and hands Dani her cup. She sits next to the young woman; close enough for support; but fighting any other of the myriad of emotions leaking from her.

Dani looks sheepishly at the older woman. "Sorry, Countess. I don't usually get this kind of blowback from people who aren't here. It may be because I am so close to Bryne."

"What is he to you, Dani?" Ursa asks. "Are you lovers?" She has asked the question before.

The young Zeltron takes a sip of her caf while contemplating her response. "It is complicated, Countess. My people try not to use labels. We have family relationships by marriage, but we have other relationships as well.

She falls silent for a moment. "Zeltrons have family relationships; relationships of blood. Those can be close, or not." Dani look up at the Mandalorian. "We also have our families of the heart. There is no blood relationship; but one of the heart, the mind, and the body. They are all intertwined." She smiles softly. Ursa is struck by the raw emotion behind that expression.

“To answer your question directly, yes, we are occasional lovers. We seize the light where we can. Mostly it is a relationship of care and comfort."

"Bryne is a brother of my heart." Her eyes tear again. Ursa, in spite of her strong exterior, can feel her own heartache suffusing through her being. Dani closes her eyes and concentrates. Ursa feels the raw emotion subsiding.

She sees the smirk flow on to the young woman's beautiful features. "You must be pretty strong. Or I am losing my touch. This strong of an emotional wave would've had us in the back of this ship."

Ursa laughs. "My dear, don't think you aren't affecting me. I have just been around the block a bit and don't show it as much." She reaches up and touches Dani's face. "I can feel the hurt of the memories, but I can feel the joy that was felt here. The love." She closes her eyes as she drops her hand. "I think that I understand them both much more, experiencing this. Of how much they meant to each other and how they helped each other."

The Countess looks at Dani. "There was another, that I can feel in both of their emotions. One who meant different things to both of them; but the bond is there."

Dani nods. "A young Jedi. I don't know how Jo knew her, but Bryne grew up with her. They were close in some oath they took to one another during the Hunt of the girl's culture. It grew into something more in the last months of the war." She smiles. Again, Ursa is struck by the power of that simple expression. "I was there. I saw it. It was beautiful."

The two women fall silent at that, each lost in the thoughts of their dead. A light on the far console brings them out of their reverie. They both straighten and look at each other. Without a word, they stand and walk to the cockpit.

Both expressions, on crimson and bronze skins, are resolute. Determined.

Determined to free their respective families from a cycle of bad decisions.

~+~+~+~+~+

Drop moves forward as the Mando protectors open up on the position. _At least the place is away from the rest of the settlement, so we can whale away at each other without hurting innocents._

His eyes narrow as they see the meagre numbers of their forces. The Mandos of Shysa, and a few from various clans advance on the small holding. 

He waves his left arm in a time-honored motion. The fighters advance under covering fire. 

He sees the Death Watch fighters break cover and advance. He looks at Fenn. The forces are about evenly matched. "This is going to be nothing but a hard slog, Pops," the ex-trooper says.

He feels another presence right in his blind spot. "So, 'son,' you ready to bail?" Tehlen Skirata asks. 

"Getting there, Protector. Especially as few that showed up to actually attack these fuckers."

"Yeah. I know," the Protector says. "I think after we get rid of them, I am heading the hell out of here. Maybe raise little brothers and sisters for you."

Drop shakes his head. A gleam comes to his eye."You ever get tired of the senior citizen, you can try someone younger."

Tehlen's eyeroll is felt with her punch to his arm. "I would prefer someone who has actually gone through puberty."

A flurry of blasterfire is heard coming for them, from the front of the farm. 

"Looks like those assholes are feeling frisky," Tehlen says dryly. The both add their blasters to the cacophony and begin to advance.

As they begin to break out from cover, a roaring is heard.

~+~+~+~+~+

Cantos Lardai watches as the two forces attempt to kill each other off. She and her commandos do what they have been doing since they came down on this hole of a planet.

They observe.

Lardai watches as the two forces draw closer and closer together. She shakes her head as she hears a beeping noise. She looks down at the comm control panel on the wrist of her armor. She smiles as she notices the words on the small screen. 

"Come on," she says to the other commandos. "Time to see who is left." She smiles behind her bucket. "And kill them."

The commandos notice a roaring noise as they move to the fight.

~+~+~+~+~+

Both combatant groups look up. A old, battered Nu-class assault shuttle descends at the vertical in the remaining field between them. 

Leaders on both sides stop as they recognized the shuttle, with its black matte finish and a stylized figure in orange and black armor on the sides, a sword in one hand and a forging hammer in the other.

Stylized Mando and Aurabesh script proclaims the ship to be _The Laughing Beskad._

One, a large example of millions of brothers remembers a ship docked at a repurposed Republic medical station. The day that another brother's world died in a flurry of blasterfire and lightsaber arcs.

Drop starts as he sees the pilot in the cockpit. A beautiful, crimson-skinned woman. A woman that he remembered with laughing purple eyes.

As well as a love for his love's Master, Shaak Ti. He turns to Tehlen and Fenn, who has walked up. "I think that I need to make myself scarce. There is someone on that shuttle who I knew from before." He smiles behind his bucket. "A friend, but one that doesn't need to know I am alive."

Tehlen starts to say something, but doesn't. She hurriedly pulls Drop into her arms. "Go. Be careful, Tarre." She squeezes him tighter. "I have a feeling we have all worn out our welcome." She points at the Death Watchers. "Them, too."

Fenn embraces them both. "Don't get all choked up on me, Pops," Drop says. The smirk can be heard in his voice. "One of these days, pup." The foreheads of all three of the buckets come together.

Tarre Tredecima, known as Drop, turns. He activates his comm. "Hey, Junior," he says. "Time to blow this place."

On the opposite side of the field, the leader of the Death Watch, as well as his _riduur,_ recognize the shuttle for another reason. A ship owned by a younger sister. A younger sister who had continuously bested him, as well as disgraced the family by marrying an itinerant Corellian with connections to a weak clan.

It is the figure in _beskar'garm;_ armor in grays and yellows, walking down the ramp. The figure walks towards he and his remaining troops, as she pulls her _buy'ce_ from her head.

Countess Ursa Wren, _alor_ of Clan Wren, of House Vizla, surveys the small number of remaining troops. "You are to stand down. Get on this shuttle and we will take you somewhere. You will be compensated for your time." Her eyes harden as she looks at Tommis and Lucre. "For my brother's folly."

Tommis yanks off his helmet, his anger rising. "Now wait just a damned minute, Ursa. You have no right....," he yells. 

"Shut up, Tommis, before you sound even more like the petulant boy that you are," Ursa says. "When I approved your little venture, you assured me that there would be little resistance. Well, I am looking at ; less than two dozen of our remaining mercenaries. I am looking at an angry populace. I am looking at troops paid with money from slavers." The last is said through gritted teeth. Her brother's eyes widen. 

Ursa pauses and looks at their armor. "You don't even wear the Sigil of Clan Wren any more," she says, pointing at their chests. "You have thrown in with a dead body. A corpse that doesn't know it is dead, _Kyrt'sad_." she finishes. 

"What are you talking about, sister? You were Death Watch. Even your precious J'ohlana was a Nite Owl."

Ursa's eyes are sad as she looks at them. "Yes. I was. Because I thought it was the only way to preserve our old ways. But your little sister, who taught me so much, helped open my eyes to a better way." She smiles softly. "Being a mother might've helped, as well."

"You are soft, Ursa. I challenge..."

She cuts him off. "You might want to think carefully about what you are about to say. Because you cannot challenge me for the leadership of the clan." Her eyes grow even harder. "Tommis and Lucre, you are cast out from Clan Wren. You no longer enjoy the privileges and the protection. As far as I am concerned, you are both _darmanda_. There is a shocked murmur from the assembled troops as the reality of what she has said sinks in. The state of no longer being Mandalorian.

Ursa senses movement to her right. She draws and fires only one of her Westars in one swift movement.

Lucre Wren falls, her arm shattered by the bolt. Her own blaster on the ground. Ursa smiles darkly. "That is the only wounding you get, for the love I once felt for you, Lucre."

She turns to her brother. "Get out of my sight. Whoever wants off of this world, except these two, can board."

Dani runs down the ramp. "Hate to break up the family reunion, but we might want to be getting the hell out of here. I've got Imperial signals jumping in. At least one big one."

Ursa looks at the remaining Death Watchers. Half have picked Lucre up and are moving away with Tommis. The other half look expectantly at her. They shake their heads and move into the crowds that are gathering. All of them, as one, rip the Death Watch sigil off of their armor and drop them on the ground.

She closes her eyes for a moment. She then turns to Dani. "Let's go, Daaineran. There is nothing left for Clan Wren, here."

As the shuttle rises, the Countess looks down and sees a small number of Imperial troopers of some kind running up to the crowds. 

As blue turns to black, both women watch as a huge wedge-shaped vessel shifts into reality. It is there for only half a second before the shuttle shifts and jumps to hyperspace.

They don't see at least four other ships jumping away as well. A small freighter that carries a father and daughter away; a giant whose identity remains sacrosanct. A family looking for another part of the whole.

A pirate ship, whose mercurial, honorable Captain is realizing that she cannot remain on the sidelines in this fight. A Captain who makes a note to contact her Quartermaster, a young rebel now healing.

A Mandalorian craft, filled with apparently unemployed protectors, searching for a purpose once more. Their leader holding a young woman who mourns yet another lost home.

The last ship, a purloined survey ship. A stolen vessel holding a collection of angry Mandalorians, cast out from their clan. A man and a wounded woman who think and plot. They plot to rise to power again at the head of a body that doesn't acknowledge that it is dead.

~+~+~+~+~+

The crowds of Stornani wait expectantly in the settlement square as the Imperial shuttle flares in for a landing. Imperial stormtroopers are already interspersed throughout the crowd, to quash any dissent or argument for what is about to be said.

The crowd watches as the ramp lowers. A double row of fleet troopers marches down and turns inward. 

A young woman, her face bearing the genetic markers of a group who had abandoned their planet for the stars centuries ago, to pursue a life of preying on others, walks down the ramp. She is followed by a gray being. Sallow gray skin, gray hair pulled back and up from his skull, is matched by his gray attire. Gray eyes stare out at the crowd expressionlessly. 

The young woman walks up to a commando officer, who pulls her helmet up. The two Imperial officers embrace. She commando officer smiles as she sees the rank plaque. She breaks away and salutes the gray-uniformed woman. "Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel Antol."

The ISB agent smiles. "Thanks, Cant. Check your comm sometime today. There might be another one in the works." She turns to the crowd and walks further out into the square. 

There is slight feedback as a loudspeaker comes on to project her quiet voice. "Citizens of the new Imperial protectorate of Stornan. We have come here to establish order after the chaos of your self-governance. You will find us a stern caretaker, but one with mercy for those who follow law and order."

There is a low murmur in the crowd. There are a few cries as blaster butts strike skin. "You have already surrendered your weapons to your new protectors," Antol says. "If you continue to follow directives, there will only be a small garrison left here. She motions to an armored stormtrooper officer. "Commander Bly and the 327th Stormtrooper Legion will be here temporarily to establish whether we need a larger presence, as well as the Illuminator." The crowd looks up at the gargantuan Star Destroyer looming above them.

"In the meantime," she continues, "Administrator Zharkan of TaggeCo will present our plan for helping you realize your full potential as a productive member of the Empire." She motions to the Umbaran.

"Good morning. We at TaggeCo are pleased to announce that we have filed claims to the Tibanna gas tracts on the moons." He gives a demonic smile at the widened eyes of the crowd. There had been no notice to file claims with the Empire. "Don't worry. There are those among you wanted to take action to organize the claims and asked us to intercede." His gray eyes lock on Gege Merrik. "We have. We now own the rights to the gas."

"We will begin hiring workers for the mines, as soon as the security is guaranteed. In addition," he continues in his oddly accented voice, "we and our government allies will establish a tax on your private businesses in order to operate. In order to pay for your security and safety."

His eyes flash briefly at the round of low murmuring. "You will find that if you fall into line, you will all benefit from this....order."

"Your tax will put us out of business! We'll be slaves," comes from a voice at the back of the crowd. There is a scream as a burst of blaster fire is heard.

Gege Merrik walks up to the Umbaran. "We were promised a fair percentage when we negotiated."

The Umbaran smiles again. "It is fair. For us." He turns away. Merrik's shoulders slump.

Colonel Leeza Antol nods. _Operation Windfall is off to a good start,_ she thinks. A new way of conquest. More efficient. She turns away to board the shuttle. _One that will bring honor and power to the Antols._

Another woman at the edge of the crowd watches. She watches and will wait. She checks her comm for a particular icon. The icon of diamonds and a pair of parallel angled lines.

Jan t'Kryze pockets the comm and waits for the right time.


	31. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing.
> 
> The true 'Big Shot' returns.

Ahsoka Tano hears soft voices as she fights her way out of the haze. She coughs as the chemical smell of the bacta pushes into her nostrils, as her senses come alive.

The smell becomes taste, the taste triggers her gag reflex. She feels a pair of warm hands turning her on her side as the gag reflex triggers a deluge. She can only hope that someone else is aiming, as her eyes show no sign of wanting to open.

She smiles to herself as she finishes decorating whatever or whoever is in the target area with leftover bacta. Another pair of hands caress her feet. She feels her consciousness leave again as the touches on her feet and back sooth her.

She senses another presence standing off from her. A familiar presence, but one filled with pain. One filled with a mixture of relief and anger.

One that does not touch her in comfort.

Ahsoka's mind can only feel the pain, as it overwhelms the comfort provided by the other two presences. There is only darkness.

In the microsecond before the darkness swallows her again, she feels a tiny presence place smaller hands on her own healing ones, with no fear. A presence filled only with light and love. A presence that smells of oatmeal and milk and fruit. She feels the presence climbing into the bed with her and lying along her body.

The darkness and pain is much less overwhelming, as the warrior feels that tiny spark of a mystical presence from the small body. Well hidden, but still there.

The warrior sleeps.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola Vorserrie watches as the young warrior's face relaxes. In spite of her pain and anger, she smiles at the little girl laying next to Ahsoka, trying to be as quiet as possible. She turns to the scrutiny of the Queen of Alderaan. Riyo Chuchi busies herself holding the sleeping warrior's other hand.

Breha jerks her head to another room. Nola follows, anticipating a battle for her attitude towards the Togruta, interspersed with care and concern for her own losses.

After the door closes, Breha motions for her to sit. At first, Nola is going to be obstinate. The Queen merely looks at her.

She decides to sit. She waits for Breha to begin.

Breha says nothing, merely sits on the couch watching Nola. 

The Hand of the Queen begins to fidget, much like Princess Leia would, if she was not so concerned with her 'Soka.

Breha watches the young woman's eyes track downward. She finally sighs and takes the fixer's hand in hers. She begins to rub it gently. "Talk to me, Nola. Tell me about how you feel right now. About what you feel," the Queen says.

Nola closes her eyes. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. I don't know what I feel. I am angry. Angry at Fin's betrayal. Angry at Ahsoka for her stupid-ass risks. Angry at myself for getting close to both of them."

Breha says nothing; merely listens. "Do you think Fin betrayed the Queen three years ago?" she asks. 

Nola is thoughtful. "No. I don't think so," she says after a moment. "He wasn't expecting an attack from an entire legion. He was expecting a lone assassin, or a small team. He spread his forces out too thinly to defend from attacks all at once by a large force." She shakes her head. "No. He made a mistake. One that I think he lived with for good long time."

"Why did he betray us now?" Breha asks. "He mentioned family," Nola says. The Queen's eyes tear as she detects the numbness in the young Naboo's body language and voice. "I always thought that he had a family on Naboo. I never met them, even when....," she trails off. 

Breha squeezes her hand. Nola nods to herself. "I was half-right. Apparently he was adopted by the Antols." The Queen's eyes widen. "I had Hana Yung-Shaizan check into it. Apparently his parents and older brothers died mysteriously. He was a baby when it happened. Next thing anyone knows, he shows up with the family name of one of the given names of one of the leaders."

"There is a definite connection from the Antols to the Chandrilan non-profit," Breha says.

"Yeah," Nola says. "Some say that the Antols were a band or sect that was run out of Chandrila centuries ago. Spent a few centuries wandering and preying on innocents in space."

Her eyes grow thunderous. "I sure can pick'em, can't I?" she muses. 

"Nola. Enough. Did Fin ever show you that he was a murderer or a criminal?" The Naboo is silent. "No," she says in a small voice, "he was always a good man. Funny and caring."

"Then focus on that, sweetie," the Queen says. "Remember that Fin as being the father of your child." Nola nods. She gets up. "I am heading to Naboo with Riyo. I am going to see my family, while she works on something with the Queen and Hana."

Breha smiles. "Yeah. We are looking to get something out of this mess. An avenue for fundraising." She narrows her eyes at Nola. "You aren't going to stick around? Dek is going to wake Ahsoka up in a little bit."

Nola cannot look at Breha. "I think that it is best that I not be there. This is not the time for me to say what I think. To say that I think she is being reckless."

Breha pulls the taller woman into her arms. "I think that you are being incredibly selfish, Nola. Ahsoka does what she has to do, as she sees fit. She is the one who is on the ground." She smiles. "The tip of the spear, if you will. I think that it is up to us to support her and be there for her." Her dark eyes tear again. "Until she doesn't come back to us. Then we mourn her and remember her."

Nola kisses the Queen on the forehead. "I don't know if I can, your Majesty," she whispers. "I've let myself get too close."

"Never think of that as a weakness, my love," the Queen says softly. 

The Queen and her Hand let the tears flow.

~+~+~+~+~+

Dek Antilles looks down at Ahsoka Tano, lying on the medbed with the little girl tucked under her arm. He looks at Riyo and Breha. He touches Leia on her cheek. "Hey, sweetie. You might want to get down from there. You can hold her hand, but she may not know what she is doing when I wake her. Gonna wake her kind of fast."

The Princess looks at her cousin with a mix of anger and concern. "Will it hurt her?" the four-year old asks.

"No. It's just that she will come awake rather hard. She may not know where she is."

"She knows perfectly well where she is," comes a weak voice from the bed. Dek's eyebrows rise. The two women look at each other and smile. "She is lying here with a nice, warm bundle next to her. A perfect little bundle."

Leia takes this opportunity to hold her tighter. The little girl reaches up and kisses the warrior's cheek. Ahsoka's eyes open slowly; she squints against the bright lights. Dek lowers the lights with a small device on his wrist.

Breha walks over and reaches down to kiss her gently. Ahsoka raises her healing left hand. "You might not want to do that, your Majesty. I am quite sure that my breath could bring down a Stardestroyer."

"Oh, so that was what it was on Stornan," the Queen snarks. "I'll take my chances," she continues dryly as she kisses the young woman. "How do you feel? You gave us quite a scare."

"Singed."

Breha laughs. "Probably so. Balor said that what you did was probably the stupidest, but the bravest thing they have ever seen."

"No argument here, at least on the first."

Dek pulls over closer to her. He picks up her right arm. He runs a tiny feather over her arm while fixing her eyes with his. "Can you feel that? Where is it?"

"Apparently right near a new ticklish spot on my new marking." 

He repeats the test on several spots, as well as on the other arm. He takes both of her hands in his. "Squeeze as hard as you can. Try not to use any, uh, enhanced abilities."

To his credit, he does not flinch. He nods. "Very good. I think those pirates of yours saved your arms."

"At least they're good for something," she says. Her downward glance at her middle belies the snark.

She looks around, suddenly. "Where is Nola? Is Nola okay?"

Riyo and Breha look at one another. "She is fine," Breha says. "She is dealing with a few things." She squeezes Ahsoka's hand in hers. "Give her time, dear. This and a couple of other things hit her pretty hard."

They can see Ahsoka's eyes tearing. She shakes her head and says something in Huttese under her breath as she wipes the liquid away. Breha rolls her eyes as she notes the attention that her daughter gives the muttered word.

"Nola is getting ready to go to Naboo, to see her parents. The Queen has assured us that the Empire doesn't know that any Handmaidens survived."

Ahsoka smiles gently at this. "She did pass a message on to you." Breha puts her hands over Leia's ears and stills the protest with a look. "She, said, and I quote 'to get your narrow ass better; you might get an extra wrestling match. Or she will kick said ass. She hasn't decided which."

"As if she could," she says with a rejuvenated Smirk. Her eyes grow soft as she locks on Riyo at the foot of the bed. Breha notices. She looks at Leia. "Little Queen, I think that your 'Soka and Senator Chuchi want to have a few moments. Can you let them?"

The adults smile as Leia takes that in. She reaches down and lets Ahsoka kiss her on the cheek. Without a word, but a bright smile, she gets down.

Dek is the last to leave. "Try not to do anything strenuous that will mess up all of my good work." He kisses the warrior on her cheek. "No promises, Doctor," she says to his eyeroll. "Thank you, Dek," she adds. "For everything." He nods and is gone.

Ahsoka and Riyo look at one another. Ahsoka beckons the Pantoran over. She reaches up and touches the Senator's cheek. A mischievous grin splits her face. "Hey, wife."

Riyo laughs. "Hello, Jana," she says, using another alias. She grows serious. "I nearly lost you," she whispers. "My friend Ahsoka, as well as my wife Jana."

She pulls out a small object from her sleeve. Ahsoka smiles as her eyes fall on it.

A small gold ring. "I found it in one of your belt pouches. It survived everything."

Ahsoka takes the ring. "Guess Jana will get to wear it sometimes, Senator." Riyo reaches down. Their lips join for several stolen moments. When they break free, Riyo smiles. "Guess so, Fulcrum." Her eyes lock on the huntress.

"Call me Advocate."

~+~+~+~+~+

Hana Yung-Shaizan walks into the boardroom of Shaizan Financial. The members of the board, all employees, remain seated as she does. She drops her datapad on the table and surveys the middle-aged to elder males. She turns and looks at Riyo Chuchi, who has followed her in the room. The Senator had arrived the day before.

Hana's dark eyes narrow with anger.

"It is customary that when the wife of the _Dai-lin_ walks in that members of the House rise," she says coldly.

Daylan Folar, the youngest by a decade looks at her as if he would a bug to be smashed. "Perhaps. But all I see is a grasping whore. A whore who married above her."

Riyo stifles a gasp. She looks to gauge Hana's reaction to the insult. She smiles as she sees Hana's face calm. "Then if you won't rise for the wife, then how about the _Dai-lin?_ "she asks. She pushes a button on the datapad. Words flash on the holoprojector at the center of the table.

Words culminated with a recognizable seal. The seal of Fantos Shaizan, literally, the 'big shot', the leader of the Exalted and Noble House of Shaizan Financial and Trade.

More correctly, the former leader. There is a murmur of anger from the assembled board. "You can't do this. Fantos is our leader..." Folar sputters.

"Not anymore. He sits at Soruna estate under house arrest on charges of credit-laundering. The charges might be dropped if he gives up all control and access to the House's finances and clients." She smiles; an expression that is compelling in its resemblance to a mythical beast of another Elder planet, whose owner she has recently been exposed to.

She drops the final bit of ordinance. "Control and access is ceded to me."

Goegen Strokan, the eldest of those assembled, manages to sneer through his quivering, watery decrepitude. "This will never happen. It is not legal."

"Allow me to introduce Riyo Chuchi," she says as she gestures to the smaller woman beside her, "she is our new Chair of the board and chief legal officer. She assures me that it is all legal."

"As _Dai-lin_ I am exercising the control option to remove all of you from the Board. You are also all terminated from employment at the House." The murmur becomes a roar.

"I have sold your shares and deposited the proceeds into your accounts. Senator Chuchi is one of the three who has bought shares, to become minority owner."

She smiles again. "One of the others is the Chair of the Corellian Engineering Company, in the name of Nola Vorrserrie, Senior Representative of Alderaan and a native of Naboo." She hears a noise behind her. "Ah. I think that the largest of the minority owners is here, now."

The collective eyes widen as several identically dressed young women, as well as armed security guards walk in.

"I would suggest that you rise for her, if you won't for me."

Kylantha, elected Queen of the Naboo glides in. She surveys the assembly with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"Hello, Hana," she says. She moves over and kisses her former Captain of the Queen's Guard on the cheek. She returns her blue gaze to the men still seated.

They stumble over themselves to rise. "I think that it is time for you to leave, gentlemen. It is also time for Shaizan Financial to live up to its title of the Exalted and Noble House." Her eyes harden. "Get out. Or I will have you removed."

"You can't do this. We are legally chartered..."

"I just did. You should've thought about this when your former _Dai-lin_ got into debt and bed with spice smugglers." She smiles again. "When you leave the building, you will find some of our Inspectors of Constabulary waiting for you to take you into custody."

"On what charge?" Folar sneers again. "Conspiracy to commit racketeering," the Queen says without hesitation.

Her eyes flash. The former boardmembers look at one another at the choices presented.

They take the wise option and file out.

Riyo and Hana visibly relax. The Queen remains calm. She embraces Hana. "I am proud of you, my dear. You are amazing," she says. She pushes the ex-guard away from her slightly. She looks at the younger woman.

"What about your Corellian? He would be a strong ally and protector," the Queen asks. There is an intake of breath from the Pantoran beside her.

Hana shakes her head. "I think it best that I give the appearance of making my marriage work. These assholes," she points at the door, "could try to sue on grounds of adultery to wrest control."

Kylantha nods. "Archaic, but true," she says. Hana smiles, a wistful quality to the expression. "Besides. I think that night was just a moment. A moment of memory and pain. I don't think that we could build anything from that."

Kylantha embraces the young officer again. "You are the strongest person I know, Hana. I and your friends will be there for you." She looks directly into Hana's eyes. "You know how to use your newfound power and wealth," she whispers.

Both Riyo and Kylantha turn and walk out, leaving Hana standing before the table alone.

Her eyes tear as she places her hand on her flat belly. She thinks of the future of a movement. A movement made just a tiny bit more financially stable. She tries not to think of a future that is now growing.

~+~+~+~+~+

Nola Vorrserrie is held by her father and her mother in a tight embrace. Even though she is now taller than both, she feels as if she is five again.

Warm and safe. She feels several large animals pawing at her, various indications of joy and welcome on their faces and bodies.

Including quite a bit of slobber on her back and hips.

Her father's eyes, those eyes that are always filled with humor and are her birthright from him, are locked on her, as if they will never again leave her face.

Her mother places her blonde head on Nola's chest. The Hand of the Queen feels the wetness on her shirt. 

"I am so proud of you, squirt," Pold Vorrserrie says. "Can you stay awhile?"

Nola looks around at the familiar small, but warm house with its family holos and knick-knacks. "A couple of days. I have some meetings to attend to. But I will try to come back more, as long as I know that it wouldn't cause harm."

"You will always come back to us. No matter what," Cha Vorrserrie says, her blue eyes flashing. "We will fight for you."

Nola doesn't reply. She thinks of her various families.

~+~+~+~+~+

Riyo Chuchi walks onto her ship. After the initial meeting with the company, the negotiations had degenerated into threats and counterthreats. She had finally prevailed with sheer will and legal knowledge.

Teon Jinks and Ano Lessi greet her at the ramp. Uncharacteristically, Ano is actually smiling.

"What?" she asks. "He, I can tell that he probably met someone tall dark and handsome. You usually have a look of constipation on your face, Ano."

A thin blue middle finger is raised in her direction. "No tall dark and handsome this trip; although I am expecting to explore Corellian culture soon," Jinks says. The Senator smirks. "Might try some of that, myself. Thrown in with a little Zeltron."

The slicer makes a 'hurry up gesture,' coupled with an eyeroll. Teon grows serious. "We have news on another front. Ano and her new best friend Touchstone have a safe way in to the TaggeCo accounts. We can skim what we need, as we need it. At least until they get smarter."

Ano's expression indicates her thoughts on the likelihood of that. Riyo smiles. She pulls Ano into her embrace. Ano tolerates the touch for several moments. As they break away, she sighs. "Get us underway for Alderaan, Te," she says. "I am going to take a nice hot shower." He nods and touches her arm.

Riyo walks to her cabin, as she feels the ship prepare for the jump to hyperspace. Her mind on the negotiations, as well as her new-found cause. _Maybe the same one I have had for awhile._

She reaches her cabin. She smiles as she thinks of the living embodiment of that cause. She palms the door open and walks in. She drops her bag on the table next to the door.

She senses movement near the bed. 

The Senator manages to bring the lights up. Her eyes widen.

Jaze Stane stands there, a very large knife in his hands. "Hello, Senator. I think I owe you some spilled blood.

Riyo Chuchi screams.


	32. Rebuilding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout and Recovery

Mon Mothma's eyes snap open as the light blossoms behind her lids. Her arms tighten around the back of the man gently thrusting inside of her. 

Her blue eyes lock on his more piercing versions. She laughs softly at the expression of warmth in them. An expression that is not always seen in public. She increases the tempo of her thrusts against him. Her cries rise as they move to their finish.

She feels his warmth inside of her as the explosions subside. Their movements slow.

Draq' Bel Iblis collapses onto his elbows, careful not to place his bulk on her. She laughs and pulls him to lay fully on her. They both turn on their sides after a moment, their arms and legs about each other. They remain connected along the length of their bodies.

"Not bad for a Dragon," she says, kissing him gently.

"Thought you were going to say it was not bad for an old man." he replies.

"That goes without saying," she says with an unfamiliar smirk. There is a paroxysm of laughter as his fingers find a sensitive spot on the back of her thigh. A spot that he had marked earlier, years ago. As the laughter subsides, she kisses him. "Pretty good for a man of any age, my love," she says.

They remain there, connected for moments, dozing. She finally opens her eyes.

"Draq'?" she asks.

"Mmm-hmmh?" he mumbles. 

"Do you think that we have rolled this up? At least the threats to Corellia and Chandrila?"

He is silent for a moment. "I think that we have made you and your world safe, for the moment. I am not worried about the Five Brothers. Or Garm. I have too many hard men and women who will protect them. But I am not sure that the galaxy as a whole is safe. I think that the Antols are not smart enough to have thought this whole thing up." He grins. "At least not the ones I have come up against. They also don't have the resources."

They both fall silent. Mon uses the silence to reach up and kiss Draq'. "I have to tell you something Draq'." He steels himself, as he has every time he is with her. "It will be announced within the hour. Malot Ton is resigning as Head of State."

"Why?" the Dragon asks. 

She turns her head and stares at the lightening sky. "His campaign organization was heavily involved with Eleuthera. There is some evidence that he even helped set it up."

"Will he be...?" he starts to ask. "No. There isn't enough evidence. A good number of his loyalists will resign as well."

She takes a deep breath. "I have been asked to serve as Head of State by the Speaker of the Burgesses. Our Charta does say that the Head of State can represent the World in the Senate. There will be a planet-wide referendum in twenty days, since it is happening in the middle of his term."

Draq' smiles with a rare expression of joy. "That is the best news for Chandrila. Possibly even for the movement."

She shakes her head. "I will have to be careful as Head of State. I don't know if I will serve past the three-and-a-half years left on Ton's term or not. I will have to speak out in the Senate against Palpatine's excesses."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Mon."

"We may have to take a break, Dragon. Can't be Head of State and be shacking up with a foreign power. Especially the father of my biggest Senatorial rival." They are both silent as they digest this. She places her fingers against his lips. "Don't worry, Draq'. We'll figure it out, somehow. We have been figuring it out for ten years, now."

He nods. "So how did this all come to light?" he asks. Her powerful blue eyes, eyes that could hold any audience, including an audience of one Corellian, tear. He places his large hand alongside her cheek. "There was one more resignation. My cousin, Daen. He was being blackmailed by someone. Possibly the Antols or someone in the Head of State's camp. He offered his estate on Alderaan as a safe haven at their behest. That was all he did." Her eyes grow dark as the tears spill freely. "Except for shoving Finder Skon down my throat as extra security."

"How were they blackmailing him?"

"His wife is a spice addict. I never knew. He let them get their claws in them."

His own eyes are thunderous. "Why did he turn back?"

"He didn't know about the attack. He thought that the assassination attempts were Corellian in origin. Once he found out about the attack and how Finder betrayed us, he came to me. He resigned and wrote out a statement. He didn't know much. It wasn't enough to indict the politicals. He would have been the only one indicted."

"Was he?" 

"No. Bail offered me sanctuary for him. The Prosecutor-General agreed that a public trial with unfounded accusations against Ton could do no good. She is a good lawyer. Dedicated and honest. She will continue to build the case."

"Daen's wife?"

"She is with him on the estate. Breha set her up with some advanced treatments. They are hopeful."

Draq's eye grow pensive. "Mon. I either supervise or I work with a good number of self-sacrificing idiots who take the universe on their shoulders when things go wrong. I don't think that I can sleep with one. Please don't blame yourself for others' weaknesses."

She smiles softly. "I don't blame myself for his or her weakness. But I should've seen this coming."

"No, Mon. You couldn't. Not with what you are doing. With what you are facing in the coming years."

"What good are we if we can only focus on the big picture. Not the ones who are fighting?"

"You let me and Bail worry about that. Even Garm. We will share the burden with you, Senator Mothma."

She brightens for a moment. "Good news, though. Bail's Fulcrum is recovering. She is already up and about, spoiling for a mission."

Draq' joins her smile with his. He recalls a conversation months ago about the youth of his friend's paladin, but of their experience and power. "That is good news. I am hoping to get Bryne and Dani up to speed to back her up when Bail is ready."

"Your slicer has already proved his worth, together with Riyo's people." Mon says. "They are all set to start skimming profits from TaggeCo's Stornan ventures."

"Please don't tell him that. I don't want him to get an even bigger head. Plus, he will probably make a comment about your breasts." Their laughter rises once again. Draq' decides that he likes the sound of the mingled laughter. _So rare._

"Fulcrum has also come up with an idea to use some of that skimming, as well as some other funds that are coming in to try and bolster, as well as control the potential cell on Stornan."

Draq' is silent. "I don't know. Maybe we should just call it a day there."

"No. I don't think so. Garm has agreed to accompany me there next month with relief supplies. Fulcrum will have one of her trusted operatives there to watch us. We won't make contact."

Draq' is quiet. He slowly smiles a mischievous smile. "I don't know, Mon. Having you two on the same planet might cause another shooting war."

The Senator and soon-to-be Head of State of the sovereign world of Chandrila rolls her eyes. She forgives him as his mouth begins to track downward over her pale skin, until she can think no more.

~+~+~+~+~+

Ano Lessi watches as Teon skillfully pilots the small diplomatic ship into hyperspace. He sits back and relaxes his shoulders. He notices Ano watching him. "What? Wanting to try to get me to kick your ass at your little game again?"

His comm dings. _Keep dreaming, pretty boy. You stand a better chance of getting into that Corellian's pants than you do of ever beating me._

"Never underestimate the power of my mojo, nerd, when it comes to getting laid or winning something," the political operative says with a grin.

 _You almost had me believing you, sport,_ comes the message.

She ducks as he throws a back-cushion at her. "So how do you like working with Touchstone? Even though you haven't met."

_He is very skilled. Showed me quite a few things when we were slicing into TaggeCo's systems. I am looking forward to meeting him._

Teon raises his eyebrows. "That is different. Usually you would rather stay on the other end of the Holonet," he remarks.

_He said he could show me other things when we get to Corellia._

"Nerd foreplay," Teon snarks.

There is a palpable eyeroll. One that he can almost feel slap him in the back of his head.

_Unlike some on this ship, I do not think with a small piece of flesh or with my cleft._

He abruptly changes the subject. "So we may get to use some of that money that you and your new boyfriend are finding. Somebody has the idea to finance a new, uh, firm, in the Outer Rim."

Ano nods, not even rising to the riposte. She doesn't even bother with a text. "Yeah, Te. We should be able to get access to more. And Touchstone has developed a protocol that we can abandon a slice and still pick up where we left off."

He nods. _I don't think I have ever actually heard her voice._ Just as he is about to reply, a bloodcurdling scream assaults them from the cabins.

Teon looks at Ano and jumps up. He opens a compartment and grabs a small blaster. He pounds down the corridor. He snaps the door open to the Senator's cabin. The lights are off, but he can hear sobbing in the room.

Ano manages to turn on the lights. They both prepare for what they might see.

Riyo Chuchi sits on the deck, her body rocking back and forth. Her golden eyes stare at something on the floor. She is hugging herself, her clothes torn and covered in blood.

Te's eyes widen as he realizes that most of it is not her own. He hears a gasp behind him. His eyes track to where his Senator's are locked. 

A body lies on the floor. The body of a human male. The body's hard green eyes are locked on the ceiling.

A blaster wound still smokes on his arm. Teon tracks back to Riyo. Her small hide-out blaster lies on the deck. His eyes widen when he moves over to the body. 

A very large knife sticks out of the man's chest.

Ano is kneeling by Riyo. He watches as the slicer awkwardly takes her in her arms. "Ano. I need you to do something for me. Take Riyo to your compartment.Get some clean clothes for her - nightclothes, preferably. See if she is wounded. I'll be along to dress them, if you can staunch any bleeding. Grab her blaster." He looks at the wide-eyed young woman. "I know this might be hard. But she needs us."

Ano nods quickly and turns to her task. Teon Jinks moves back to the cockpit. He sits in the comm officer's seat. He punches in a combination of codes. Codes given to him by his Senator.

~+~+~+~+~+

Bryne Covenant sits on the couch of Dani's office at the Covenant House, the orphanage-cum-selection and training academy for Corellia's intelligence and security services. She rests against him, her breathing even. He looks down at her and smiles. She is wearing a civilian dress, light and airy. Her bare feet are tucked under her. He reaches over and moves a stray lock of blue and brown hair over her ear. She stirs and murmurs. He smirks at the words she whispers as a smile flows to her beautiful features. 

"Lantha," is all that he can make out. His smirk transforms into a sad smile as he thinks of other names in her past. _Especially those marching far away._

He closes his eyes and lets the remnants of her dormant resonance flow over him. He had come into her office to ask her if he could go to Naboo. She had instead taken one look at his face and drew him over to the couch and opened the comfort portion of her resonance.

She jerks awake as Phygus slams the door open. Both of them are about to jump feet first into his shit before they see his face.

There is no humor, no snark. "Senator Chuchi was attacked in her ship after they made the jump."

"Is she....?" Dani asks, with dread in her voice. "No. She is okay. She got a fairly deep knife wound on her forearm as a defensive wound and a bruised jaw, but otherwise she is okay." He grins. "She managed to shoot and then turn his own blade on her attacker. He is pretty dead, by the way."

Dani smiles. "That is my Riyo." 

Bryne smirks despite the seriousness. "One of your conquests, Daaineran?"

"Not yet. We were going to meet at some point for some 'training sessions," the Zeltron says. 

"May get to sooner," the slicer says. "Draq' and Organa re-directed them here for you two to take over the investigation/ass-kicking."

"Sounds like the dear Senator already did the ass-kicking for us," Covenant says. "Maybe. But the Stretch twins think that there maybe more to it. Riyo's slicer was able to identify the body as Jaze Stane, one half of a husband-and-wife Espo team that tried to kill Riyo on a liner when she, uh, acquired some extra funds from the Corporate Sector Authority and the Empire." He smiles. "It caused the pair to get a bounty on them from their former employers."

"When will they get here?" Dani asks.

"Should be at the orbital cantonment within the hour."

Dani looks at Covenant. "You handle the snooping, I handle the babysitting?" she asks.

"Just as long as you don't start the training sessions without me."

~+~+~+~+~+

Tarre Tredecima, newly adopted into Clan Shysa of House Kryze, stares out at the assembled Stornani faces in the small room. His face is hard and resolute as he thinks of the cost of getting them all here to the table in agreement.

He tries not to smile when he thinks of the good news he had heard from Alderaan. 

Fulcrum had contacted him and let him know she was fine. He has the advantage of knowing her; she probably only suspects his true identity.

_Then again, Mouse was always two steps ahead of everyone else._

_Including her lump of a hunt-brother_. Drop's eyes grow sad as he thinks of the secret he must bear. That all three of them are alive in the galaxy.

He looks up at the assembled crowd. He had come in under sensors in a different ship. His life, a small girl, older than her years, who looked at him through multicolored, wise eyes was back learning mischief with Lassa's crew. He smiles gently. _Or teaching them some._

His eyes grow wistful as he thinks of the near-grappling that he and the pirate Captain had undertaken.

It had progressed to skin before both of them realized that they were merely mourning. Without a word, Lassa had placed herself in his arms and they had fallen asleep.

One of the newer members of the Committee, voted in after the other ones had done so well, stands. He nods at Drop. "Balor, we place ourselves at yours and Fulcrum's disposal. We are warriors, of some sort, but we bow to your greater knowledge and skill."

Drop looks at Jan t'Kryze, an _alor_ without a clan. The other members had sought out her advice; it was touch and go as to whether she would leave and try to find her warriors, or leave and go back to Mandalore.

He turns back to the committee member. He isn't even bothering assigning them letters of the Aurabesh. He nods to the man, a young Southern hemispherean that reminds him so much of his brothers that he aches. "Fulcrum will be in contact with you. As a sign of good faith, we will be depositing funds in an account that we will designate with Jan t'Kryze. She has my full confidence."

"I will warn you, assholes," he says, his inner Sergeant-Major voice coming out again. The Stornani murmur. "If any of you start fighting each other, or move faster than we like, we will bail. If any of you betray us, we won't bail. You won't like how involved we will become."

"If any of my loved ones get hurt because of you, you will hope that the Empire comes for you."

"I'll be in touch." _Now to see if they really listen._

~+~+~+~+~+

Riyo starts awake with a scream. She realizes that she is in a comfortable bed in her own pajamas. The stars shine through the port above the bed. She sinks back onto the bed. An unaccountable warmth suffuses her entire body.

A warmth that she has felt before. On a starliner where the man who had attacked her had nearly killed Ahsoka.

She smiles at the crimson-skinned young woman asleep in the chair.

Her smile fades as she sees the Corellian lying on the deck of her cabin, his own knife plunged to the hilt in his chest. His green eyes staring at her accusingly as they fix.

She realizes that another set of eyes is watching her. A warm, laughing pair of purple eyes falls on her. 

Dani rises and walks over to her. She pushes Riyo's hair off of her forehead. "Hey, Senator."

Riyo smiles. She takes the officer's hand in hers and kisses it. "You're okay, Riyo. You are safe."

"Am I? That animal has a wife. A woman who I saw hold a knife to a friend's throat in an airlock." Dani's eyes turn black with sympathy. "I know, Riyo. I was there. She was also willing to explode your heart during an act of the body with a poison." Her face grows angry. "An act that is sacred to my people."

Riyo nods absently. "An animal who made me kill him." she whispers. 

Dani's eyes widen with comprehension. "You've never killed before, have you?"

"It doesn't get any easier, Senator." This from another, deeper voice.

A man of medium height, with iron gray hair stands in the doorway. His eyes lock on hers. She nearly comes out of the bed, grabbing for any blunt instrument.

She calms. His eyes are a deep green, but the similarity with Jaze Stane ends there. Where the mercenary's eyes were hard and relentless, there was only warmth and humor in these gold-flecked versions.

Warmth and humor mixed in with no small amount of pain. She looks at him. The last time she had seen those eyes, their owner had been thrashing in a seizure, whispering a name.

The name of a young huntress who is now known as Fulcrum.

The warmth that she feels from the Zeltron gift grows. It is not only warmth as she looks from Dani to the Corellian, _Covenant,_ he is called. Both of the sets of eyes, green and now black are resolute.

The feeling from these two is one that she has not felt in a long time.

_Security._


	33. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Searching for a former Separatist and a clone who refuses to admit he is a clone.

Boba Fett watches the woman drink. Her sharp blue eyes still, even after one month since her husband was killed, bear the signs of intense grief.

Grief mixed with raw anger and hatred.

She puts her drink down and stares out at the rising sun of Ord Mantell. She and the young bounty hunter had met after she had spent the last month searching for him. Searching for him to claim her money.

Her eyes close. _Hers and Jaze's_. She looks at her comm. A holo three weeks ago, from his own comm had nearly sent her back to Alderaan on a murderous rampage.

A holo of Jaze, his green eyes staring, a large knife sticking from his chest. The comm-pickup tracking upward to a man's face. A human male with similar green eyes to those staring at the overhead.

Eyes that appear to be unaccustomed to staring with anger and hatred. She watches as the man looks away. He appears to be looking at the person holding the comm. He settles; his eyes staying hard, but calm.

"Hello, darling," he says. "You must be wondering why your useless husband is lying here bleeding like the stuck pig that he is." A grin flows over the handsome face. Just as quickly it disappears. "He's dead because he attacked someone under my protection."

He stares at her from the holocom. "We can end this one of two ways. You can try and come after me and mine; the end result will be you will see your husband again much sooner than you thought. I guarantee it."

"The other is much simpler. You take your memories and the money that you have made and you go away. Far, far, away. To a place that my friends and family are not troubled by you ever again."

His eyes grow pained. "I speak from experience, Leve," he says softly. Her eyes raise at the use of her name. "I know the pain of loss. The anger. Losses including a large number of those clones that I heard you rejoiced in killing during the war. I know that it can consume you if you let it."

She remembered that her bile had risen at the mention of clones. "So either stand down, or die. Those are your two choices." He smiles, but his eyebrows raise as the holocomm pickup spins.

A crimson-skinned woman with angry black eyes stares into the pickup. She nods. "Yes, I am the Zeltron that your husband might've told you about. What the boy says is doubly true for me. You harmed innocents. You will answer to me, if he doesn't get you first. And before you say a word, I am not out for revenge. I am a peaceforcer. I am out for my world's version of justice."

The pickup swings back. A glimpse of wry humor plays over the man's features. "So there you have it. I would be more afraid of her, than me." He stares directly into the pickup. "If you choose the path of revenge, I will make it easy to hasten your end. My name is Bryne Covenant. Someone of your resources can find me, easily."

The ex-Separatist starts as Fett snaps his fingers in front of her face. "As much as I love seeing you daydream, Leve, I really don't have a lot of time. So can we get this over with?"

He pulls out a datapad. He ignores her angry glance. "As my employers agreed upon. Fifty thousand each for the job. His face comes as close to looking sympathetic as it can. "I am assuming that I just transfer Jaze's to you?" he says, "Unless there is someone else he wanted it sent to."

"Actually, Boba, darling, you can keep both fees." His eyes widen. "For a small job."

He nods, suddenly understanding. "You want me to find whoever it is that will be coming after you?"

Leve smiles. "Very perceptive. I think that there is enough there to cover you finding him dead. As well as that Zeltron bitch." Her face darkens. "If you can hold off killing them until I can watch them die, so much the better."

"What about the Senator? If you are thinking about me killing a sitting Imperial senator, you are going to need a helluva lot more than 100k."

"Don't worry about her. Or her wife. I am making them both my personal project." she says, more than a hint of menace in her voice. "My only decision will be which one to kill first while the other watches." The look that she gives almost gives Fett pause. "Maybe I will just disembowel them both while they are bound, so that they can watch each other's guts ooze out. Knowing that they can't do anything about it."

Boba rolls his eyes at the sadistic glee that twists the Mirialan's beautiful, tattooed features. For a moment, the woman's ire is directed at him, as she notices. He eyes her coldly, staring her down. Finally she nods. "Just find the two CorSec cops. You can take them out; nobody but Corellia will care."

"Actually with the man, others will care. He is half-Mandalorian. Stories say he is connected to the Wrens, as well as the Shysas. Some may celebrate, others may cause some trouble for me."

"That is not my problem. I don't give a damn about Mando politics or family dynamics. I want him dead, so I don't have to look over my shoulder while I am ending those other two."

She looks at the horizon. "Can you do it? Yes or no," she says. He is silent for a moment, gauging her sanity.

"I guess so. But I may put some info out there about you, that may lead them to you."

"Do what you have to do, boy. I don't care. Just get rid of them, so that I can have my revenge."

Boba watches the woman walk away from the rooftop cantina. He pulls his comm and pad out and starts to assemble clues to draw the two CorSec officers in. He realizes that if he does kill them, Corellia will do more than care. The people of the Five Brothers don't take kindly to their heroes being lured in and murdered.

He will have to take care. To make sure all of the blame falls on the psychopath who had just walked away from his table.

~+~+~+~+~+

The Senator sits at the viewport, looking at the beautiful landscape beyond the small town that the ship rests above. The _Consular_ rests on a hill over that small town. She knows that Dani would gently move her away from the window if she was here; the young woman had gone to Coronet City to find out more of what was going on with Covenant's search for the wife of a dead man.

Riyo sighs and moves back further into the lounge and flops on a couch. In the last month, she and Dani had moved around the Five Brothers, visiting various sites on the planets that made up the Corellian system. Dani had attempted to keep her occupied in places that they could blend in.

Riyo smiles. She had enjoyed the enforced vacation with the young Zeltron. Dani had kept her spirits up and her mind off of various troubles with her laughter and simple joy of life. 

She had not even had to use the gift of her mother's people to comfort the Senator as dark thoughts intruded into her mind and soul. The Pantoran grows wistful as she remembers how the young woman had shown her out-of-the-way spots; those spots of unquestioned beauty on the different worlds. Different worlds and different species, but all bound together by one common identity. A common identity that still respected each people's individual traditions.

_Corellians._

Riyo stretches in her seat. She looks around the main lounge of the ship. Riyo had been privileged to see Dani's face when Draq' and Bryne had presented her with the old ship. A _Consular_ that had started her life as a Republic light frigate.

A ship that had formed one of them and had rescued all three of them on her world. A ship whose existence in the last few years had been as the play-thing of a shadowy business magnate. Her face darkens. The former owner's reach had been felt in the conspiracy that had nearly killed several people that were dear to her. She doesn't even think of her own near-extinction at the hands of one of the indirect minions of Malaky. 

A minion that they can't even trace the connection to.

Her mind goes back to the celebration. A celebration of a promotion, but also of life and a small bit of triumph in the last several weeks' missteps and threats. Draq' Bel Iblis had placed her smaller hand on a datapad and had transferred ownership of the vessel to her. As well as placing an all-gold representation of an ancient projectile from her claimed world in that crimson hand.

She had watched Bryne Covenant embrace the new Chief Inspector. The two warriors had held each other tightly. She had looked at the feared Dragon of Corellia; at his blue eyes tearing as he watched the two.

Riyo returns to a catalog of those dark thoughts that these Corellians had tried to free her from. The thought of a woman trying to kill her. The thought of another woman, a dear friend getting out of her sickbed and streaking out into the galaxy to risk her body and existence before she was ready.

She had tried to contact Ahsoka on a secure comm-channel that Dani had established on Alderaan. Each time, she had only been able to contact Nola Vorserrie, Breha's watchdog and fixer. The young woman had been sympathetic, but her expression had darkened with anger when Riyo had asked where Fulcrum was.

"Somewhere out and about, doing something stupid," had been the terse reply. Riyo shakes her head. _It was too soon. Stubborn twit._

She laughs gently. _Not like anyone else in this entire movement._

Riyo sobers. It would take stubbornness to bring light back to the darkness. Stubbornness and blood.

She feels the familiar warmth at her center as Daaineran Faygan enters the compartment. She crosses over to the young Senator as she rises. The two women pull each other into a tight embrace. Riyo smirks as she feels Dani's traditional greeting ghost over her ass.

She gives one of her own. They break away and look at each other. Dani is only a few centimeters taller that the Senator. Riyo smiles at the anomaly. Zeltrons are generally much taller on average. Her own rumored parentage also looks down on the world, as well.

She reaches over and gives the officer a deep kiss. Dani returns it with enthusiasm. They had not yet seized the light together - the tamest euphemism for the act that Dani's people has for the physical.

They had, however, moved into the same compartment and bed. _For closer security_ , Dani had said with a smile. Riyo turns back to the viewport.

"Hey, Riyo. How're you doing?"

"I'm okay, Dani," she says quietly, looking out at the terrain. 

Chief Inspector Dani Faygan is not convinced. Her eyes narrow. "Yeah, right, sweetie. You are not exactly giving me a lot of confidence in your answer. Let's try it again. _How're you doing, Riyo?"_

Riyo sighs and turns back to the younger woman. "Just trying to make it, Dani. Got some things on my mind."

"Like what?" Dani presses.

"I have a dear friend on Alderaan. A friend who I thought had died a while back. She very nearly died again a few weeks ago." Dani places her hand on Riyo's shoulder and stares at her with those sympathetic black eyes. She had heard about the Rebel operative who had been injured on Stornan. She had heard no more details; only that the operative had been a young woman. 

"She is recuperating on Alderaan," Riyo continues, "but I have not been able to get in touch with her."

She turns back to look out at the distance. Dani walks up to her and puts her arms around Riyo's middle. She rests her chin on the Senator's shoulders. "If I could, Riyo, I would take you back to Alderaan, for you to see about her in person." She kisses Riyo on the ear. "But all of us believe that you are safer if we keep you moving. Alderaan would be to obvious."

She feels the woman's soft skin move against hers in a nod. "I know. I am just afraid that she is out doing something stupid and brave again," Riyo says.

 _Yeah, like trying to seduce a known killer into giving up financial secrets of the Empire,  
_ Dani thinks, but does not say. _Nobody standing here with my arms around them would do anything like that._

"I know a few people like that," is all that Dani says. She feels the smirk against her cheek. Riyo lifts a manicured finger at the viewport. "Anyone like that?" she asks.

Dani laughs. "Exactly like that." They both turn to walk to the entry port to welcome the prime example on board.

~+~+~+~+~+

Ano Lessi rolls her eyes at Dani Faygan and Bryne Covenant as they embrace tightly. As they break away, she runs her fingers over a bruise under his left eye. His crooked grin flows to his features. "Okay, hotshot. What happened?"

"Oh, the usual. Met someone. Tried to make friends. Hit them in the fist. Nothing much." he says. She punches him on the arm. "Asshole," she says. "Were you drinking or fucking their significant other?"

"Little of both." His eyes crinkle. "Those Gamorreans are really jealous types. Oww!" he exclaims as she punches his other arm, to even the bruising up.

He sees Ano and smiles. "You must be Ano. Got someone who really wants to meet you," he says. He steps aside.

Phygus Baldrick stands there, his feet shifting as he examines them. Both Dani and Bryne's eyes widen at the sudden onset of shyness.

Riyo's eyes track to Ano's similar expression as she walks out and embraces Bryne. "Hello, Inspector. It is good to see you." Covenant smiles. "You too, Senator. You are looking a great deal better than the last time I saw you."

"I feel a helluva lot better as well, Inspector." She looks at Dani, fondly. "Your boss is a wonder when it comes to healing and comfort."

He nods. "She has certainly saved me," he says quietly.

All three of them turn and watch the scene playing out as Ano and Phygus try to figure out who the hell is going to speak first. Dani walks over and shoves Phygus towards the ramp. She does not see the thin young Pantoran's eyes flash dangerously between the arms of the 'X' tattoos over her face.

"Come on, little man," Dani says. "Let's get you on the ship and figure out what the hell is going on. It scares me when you are not even looking at the Senator's ass or mine."

He suddenly regains his confidence as he grins at Dani. "I would follow that ass anywhere, Chief Inspector."

Ano's eyeroll can be felt again. Phygus's comm chimes. He smiles and nods when he reads it. "Yep, she does. But I still get to admire it from afar."

Bryne's grin is broad as he sees Dani's eyes narrow at the small slicer as Ano allows him to take her hand in his.

The Zeltron's expression is one of pure thunder at him as he follows the pair.

~+~+~+~+~+

The three non-slicers are treated to an example of a new form of communication. Chimes echo through the lounge as the two comm-text each other back and forth; Ano with her dual data monocles in front of her eyes, and Phygus with his dueling datapads.

This exchange continues for several minutes until Riyo huffs impatiently. "As much as I am enjoying observing the mating rituals of the common slicer male and female, the rest of us would like to be included in at least the relevant portion of the ritual," she says.

Ano looks sharply at her. Riyo's comm dings. The Senator reads the text and blushes. "That is none of your business, Ano, whether or not I...." She trails off, as if suddenly remembering where she is.

Or who else is in the room.

Ano texts Phygus one last time. He nods. "No, problem, dear. I'll take care of briefing the lesser beings in the room."

"Watch it short stuff," Covenant says. "Or we will see how long you can tread space on the way back."

His comm dings. His eyebrows raise as he reads the words on the screen. _You might not be so pretty if a strain of Zygerrian yeast is introduced into the water supply of your cabin,_ it reads.

He smiles. "Point taken. I didn't know you were a part of the Phygus Baldrick Defense Society."

"Founding member and president, apparently," Baldrick says with glee.

He sobers. "Ano and I may have some information for you. Information on your mark."

The three of them sit and listen to the small slicer. Ano stands next to him.

"We were having trouble coming up with a way to track this murderous witch," he says. "After we were getting frustrated, Ano had the idea to check sensor logs and feeds from Alderaan after the attack on the compound. There were two different ships that left about a half-hour prior."

A sensor image flashes on the nearest screen. On ship is recognizable. "That is an old _Firespray-31_ ," Covenant says. "Pre-Clone Wars interceptor patrol craft."

"Yeah," Ano says. "It is registered to someone named Boba Fett, a bounty hunter."

Both Riyo and Bryne start at the name. "What?" Ano asks, in spite of herself. Both of them refrain from remarking on the fact that she has spoken. Bryne says nothing. Riyo's eyes widen at his silence, then nods in understanding, recalling a sight of him in the throes of a seizure, calling out a name. She takes over. "He was involved in several criminal enterprises during the Clone War. I read of his capture by a couple of Jedi after he caused a Republic cruiser to crash and nearly killed a Jedi Master and Knight."

Neither Riyo nor Bryne mention the identity of one of those Jedi, but if they were looking at one another, they would have seen a look of pain, as well as recognition.

A holo pops up above Ano's datapad of a very young man.

A young man who was a duplicate of millions of brothers who had fought and died for the Republic. Dani gasps as she remembers several of those brothers. "What about the other ship?" Riyo asks.

"It is an old civilian shuttle. It was reported missing." Phygus's eyes grow dark. "Around the time a certain couple of Espo assholes escaped from a liner, Senator," he finishes. Dani looks at Riyo. She can see the young woman's eyes flash with anger.

"So what is the connection?" Dani asks. "They both showed up on approach sensors on Ord Mantell within a couple of days of each other; just a few days ago." Ano answers.

The Senator and the two officers look at one another. Ord Mantell. A haven for bounty hunters and other less savory types. Bryne nods at both of the slicers. "Not too many people I know could've made that connection." The two slicers both look at one another with smiles. In Phygus's case, a goofy grin

Bryne shakes his head at errant thoughts. "Guess I know where I am going," he says. 

Riyo shakes her head. Her expression is set. "No. We all go. You can contact them, but we will be there somewhere close to back you up."

Covenant starts to protest, but a ding from his comm snatches his attention. He lifts it and reads. _Don't even think it, stud,_ it reads. _It will do you no good, when she gets that look on her face._

He nods at Ano. "Okay. Raise ship. I'll dock the _Beskad_ with the _Draq'stone_." Phygus rolls his eyes at the ship's new name. "We've got about twenty hours in hyperspace from here." He smirks. He looks at Dani and Riyo. They return his gaze without blinking.

"Anyone have any ideas as to what we can do to pass the time?"

Riyo rolls her eyes. "I am sure that there is a deck of cards somewhere," she says.


	34. Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons are taught on Ord Mantell.

Bryne Covenant looks out across the cloud-filled sky of Ord Mantell. He had managed to land without any entanglements from the main landlords of the planet - Black Sun. He thinks of the last few weeks and the places that his job had taken him. Of the things that he had done.

It was almost like being a Jedi again.

He sighs and shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the memories. Thoughts of what he had done in his past, as a Jedi Padawan before the war, invariably led him to think of the war and his losses.

They lead to thoughts of orange skin under his lips. Of bronze skin with new life growing within.

Lately the thoughts of those two different, but similar young women had moved him to examine the nagging feeling in his Force sense. One that he could not quite put his finger on; that tickled the back of his neck with familiarity.

One that he could not examine closely as he fought to keep his shields up. To keep himself off of the sensors of the new regime. To keep his family and his world safe.

He smiles as he pushes the thoughts of pain and loss away. He concentrates on all that he has gained in the last six months.

A large CR-90 corvette flares in for a landing at one of the outlying docking bays. His smile grows as he thinks of another such ship; dressed in red, gold, and black livery. A ship captained by a powerful and incongruously compassionate Pantoran woman. One who had set him on his current path by kicking him off of her ship. 

He wonders where she and her rag-tag band of pirates are. _Maybe it is time to find them. To show her that I am alive and living._

His comm chimes. He reads the short message on the HUD of his bucket. His smile takes on a devious quality behind the mask. Covenant opens his shields a tiny bit. Through that tiny aperture, he summons a bit of energy from his birthright. He checks the area and jumps.

Fifty meters straight down; he lands gently on his feet from the vantage point on the communications tower. The young ex-Jedi begins to run towards the docking bay whose location had appeared on his HUD screen, at a measured pace. 

As he does, another armored figure watches him. The figure smiles behind his own _buy'ce.  
_ Boba Fett hefts his EE-3 carbine. A weapon that he had claimed from a fellow bounty hunter who had been an ally for a brief time. A tough young Zabrak woman who had not survived an encounter with a more powerful bounty hunter.

The two warriors try to put their pasts behind them as they move closer to an encounter with each other. 

Neither of them are aware of a woman watching them from another hidden vantage point, a powerful slug-throwing rifle and scope in her hands.

~+~+~+~+~+

Covenant walks into the docking bay, his senses on as high of an alert as he can have them. He had felt the tiny buzz in his rationed Force-sense.

An old civilian shuttle sits in the center of the bay with its ramp down. He switches his HUD to infrared. 

There are no heat sources on the ship. None. Not even residual engine heat. The Corellian draws his blaster and walks up the ramp.

The first thing that he sees are bloodstains along the walls of the main crew space and deck of the ship leading to the ramp. At least three different trails.

One smaller than the other. He pulls his glove off and touches one of the stains. The substance flakes away.

This had happened awhile ago. He pulls a large knife from his lower leg; a legacy of a borrowed hunting culture. He scrapes a bit of the dried blood up and inserts the tip of the blade in a datapad strapped to his belt. His eyes are expressionless as he reads the results on his HUD.

He repeats the move on the other two bloodstains. All three of the records are compared on his screen. A family of humans, including a small child had been slaughtered here. He accesses deeper records on the ship. A listing of Corellian registry. Corellian registry to an Alderaani family of small traders.

He opens his comm. A surly voice answers. "Hey short-stuff. If you can pause in your mojo with Ano, could you access the engine logs on this thing?"

A chime comes over his comm. He reads the text and smiles at the printed response.

_Fuck off, halfwit._

"Language, dear," he says.

"Can't interface you with the logs, but I can see them," Baldrick says. "Maybe I need a better slicer," Covenant says.

"Maybe you need a bigger dick, too, but we both know that ain't happening," comes the reply.

A musical giggle comes over the pickup. Covenant smiles. _Great. Another member of the family to bust my horns._

"Logs say they haven't been fired in a good while, maybe several days." Ano says. Tal raises his eyebrows. _Something..._

"Tal, get the hell out of there, Got an energy spike in the engines! Get out!" Phygus yells.

Back on the _Draq'stone_ , the sound of a loud explosion comes over the speakers. Ano and Phygus look at one another. "Tal! Talk to me!" the small Coruscanti says, the urgency evident in his voice.

Ano's heart drops as she sees the pain in Phygus's dark gray eyes. She suddenly understands the relationship between Covenant and the slicer. She moves to another comm and sends a text into the ether. 

A text winding its way towards another location on the gangster's planet. She reaches out and touches Phygus on his face. Phygus turns to her and sees what it took in her to touch him. He allows the touch but doesn't make a move. 

Both of them turn to the speaker, as only static comes across the airwaves.

~+~+~+~+~+

Boba Fett pulls himself up from where the engine explosion had tossed him in the docking bay. He had been about to enter the small shuttle to deal with the other Mando. He had figured that he would have to shoot the bastard in the back in order to safely deal with him. 

He realizes that he has probably been duped; just as the half-breed had. The young hunter did not believe in coincidence. Stane had chosen the timing of the explosion well. He stands and brings his carbine around. Boba looks intently at the burning wreckage.

 _Well, I might as well finish this job. Never abandoned a commission before, just because the contractor double-crossed me,_ he thinks. As he closes on the now cooling shuttle, his eyes narrow behind his visor. The explosion had quickly consumed most of the combustibles, so there were only a few pieces of burning wreckage.

There was enough heat to confuse the infrared sensors displaying in a small window in his HUD.

His helmet's auditory sensors pick up a modulated 'ahem.' He looks up and sees the forest-green figure hanging from a gantry over the small docking bay.

He doesn't hesitate. Sugi's EE-3 swings up and opens fire.

At an empty space.

He senses movement behind him he whirls and opens fire. The blaster bolts are deflected by a small energy shield on the cop's left vambrace; his only one. Boba triggers his jetpack. The return fire from an old clone blaster carbine, a DC-15S that the half-breed had unslung misses him. He sees the one known on his claimed world as the Storm-King jumps to the top of the open docking bay.

Fett curses. He has seen other beings jump to those heights, with that grace before. He had thought that they had all been slaughtered by his so-called brothers, in a mindless loss of control.

Yet another thing that differentiated him from those meat-droids. He had never been owned by anyone. Jango Fett had been his father, not his template. The bounty hunter follows his quarry to the roof, firing his carbine with every increase in height. His eyes widen again as Covenant, as the Storm-King is known, back flips across the roof of the bay.

Straight down into an alleyway deserted after the explosion. He smirks as he sees the _Jedi?_ lose his balance when he lands and falls on his ass. _Okay. Maybe not a Jedi. Maybe just from a heavier gravity world. Or he has some gravity defeating device. He hasn't used a jetti'kad, yet._

Boba slings his carbine and dives headfirst to the figure as he is getting up. His bucket intersects with Covenant's midsection, bringing him to the ground. Boba's head snaps back from a blow to his _buy'ce_. His knee lifts the half-Corellian off the ground with a blow to his groin. 

White fire penetrates his pain sensors as he feels a blade penetrate his armor at a shoulder joint. He triggers one of his father's prized possessions, a custom-made Westar-34 in its holster. The bolt manages to graze the thigh of the CorSec thug. They both break apart, breathing heavily. Covenant wipes the large knife he had pulled on his trousers and returns it to its sheathe on his lower leg, as he shifts his weight to the uninjured right leg. "You know, it might be admirable to continue working for a psychopath that tried to blow you into clone-chunks, but others might consider it pretty damned stupid, boy," Covenant says. 

"Never went back on a job before, asshole," Fett says. "Learned that from my father."

He hears a snort from the cop. "Yeah. Heard about him. The great Jango Fett. The pretend Mando who jerked off into a cup for a credit or two. Real manly."

The taunt has its affect. The young hunter bellows and charges. "You son of a bitch," Boba cries. "He was an honorable man." 

Bryne braces for the impact. An impact that doesn't come, as he sees Boba drop to the ground, a dent appearing in his chest after a metallic clang emits from the armor plate. The sonic crack of a slugthrower sounds an instant later.

A half-instant before he drops to his knees as well. A red-hot spike in his right side as a slug finds its way under his own armor, ripping the beskar-infused cloth of his battledress. 

Both warriors try to struggle to their feet as one tries to breathe from the sensation of a dozen knives cutting into his chest and lungs, and the other feels warm liquid gushing against his skin from his side.

Neither succeeds enough to rise at this moment.

~+~+~+~+~+

Leve Stane curses as she peers through the scope of the long slugthrower. She calms and peers back through. _At least I won't have to worry about moving targets._ She sights on the head of the Corellian. She can see blood oozing from his side onto the ground. For a moment, she moves the sighting reticule up to her former boss and partner. In a microsecond's hesitation, she feels regret for killing the youngster.

Only for a microsecond. She curses again as she realizes that Fett is no longer lying on the ground a meter or so from the Corellian. She purses her lips through the old clonetrooper helmet and moves the target back to the Corellian, who is stirring.

She doesn't hear the footsteps climbing up to her vantage point on the high in-town comm tower that she had quickly scaled after the cop had abandoned it. Her finger moves to the trigger to end the Corellian threat, once and for all.

The weapon explodes in her hands as a blaster bolt strikes the firing assembly in front of her face. She manages to drop the ancient weapon as brilliant lights pound in her eyes. She yanks the helmet up. Her left eye, which was closed at the precise moment, opens with little issue.

Her right eye will not open. Eyes tend to remain shut when pieces of slugthrower and helmet lodge through the lid and eyeball. She leaps up, drawing her blaster. Through the receding lights in her one working eye, she sees a crimson-skinned Zeltron standing on the platform on her level. The same Zeltron that she had seen on the transmission to her, filming her dead husband as if he was the corpse of an animal.

Leve opens fire with her weak hand. The Zeltron merely smiles and slips behind a support pillar and begins to climb. Leve waits for her opponent to peek around the support pillar to fire. She opens fire herself and is rewarded with a cry and several thuds as the woman falls.

She doesn't hear the wailing cry of a fall to her death. She walks over to the edge. She sees the Zeltron hanging by one hand over the city, over a thirty meter drop. One arm hangs useless. Her blaster is nowhere to be found.

The Zeltron looks up at her. There is no fear in the black eyes. Only defiance. Leve laughs. "It is too bad, darling, that I won't be able to slit that beautiful throat for you, so that your loved ones can see your blood all over the ground. I guess that I have to settle for them seeing that body pulverized when it falls to the ground."

The Mirialan spits out the next words through clinched teeth. "I can only hope two that will see you like that will be that Pantoran whore and her wife that robbed my love and I of our best jobs. So they will know that they will be next."

The statement does not have the desired effect. The Zeltron merely smiles. Stane shakes her head as a strange feeling comes over her mind. A feeling of powerful emotion. Of love. Of grief. 

Of mourning. She sees herself wavering on her perch above the young woman. She starts as her hand slips. 

Leve Stane realizes that Dani Faygan, the Zeltron who hangs below her, is just as dangerous without a blaster and long-distance as she is with one and up close. She steels herself and points the blaster just below the brown and blue-streaked hair.

"The Pantoran whore is standing right behind you, dear," says a quiet, sharply accented voice. 

Leve whirls. Riyo Chuchi stands there, her blaster holstered. "With the complements of Jana Roshti," she whispers. "My wife would've rather been here, but she is busy."

Stane does something she has never done before. She takes a step backward without being sure of her footing.

Riyo's face is expressionless as she sees the woman's arms windmill trying to maintain balance. She steps forward, avoiding the woman's grasping hands. A dainty foot reaches behind the woman's and pulls.

She closes her eyes as Leve Stane tumbles from her perch. Dani manages to swing away to avoid the grasping hands and kicking feet. The scream is heard from Riyo's position. 

As are the thuds as she strikes walls and outcroppings before she disappears in an angled, hidden alley. There is a final sickening crunch. Riyo sees stormtroopers and Falleen thugs running towards the alley and the tower. 

Riyo looks up as a battered old _Consular_ pulls close to Dani, the side hatch and ramp open. She smiles as she sees Ano Lessi, her game-addicted slicer, actually reach out and perform manual labor, pulling Dani towards the hatch. Riyo's eyes are tearing as the ship rises to her. She makes the leap to the hatch and Dani's arms easily. The young officer pulls her close and embraces her tightly. The warmth of Dani's resonance, now calmed after its assault on Stane pervades her entire being. "It's okay, dear. I have you."

Ano is not sure which young woman says these words.

After a moment, Dani breaks away from the Senator. A smirk plays over her face. "Wife?" she asks.

"It's a long story, darling," she says with a grin. "Her name is Jana."

~+~+~+~+~+

Bryne Covenant manages to lift himself to his hands and knees in time to see Boba Fett's heels turn the corner. He can hear blaster fire above him. He ignores it as he pulls himself to his feet. His carbine falls across his back in its assault sling. His gait is slowed by the blaster wound in his left thigh and the bullet strike on his right side, underneath his ribcage.

He calls on his connection to a shared birthright. His gait manages to better resemble a run as he moves after the bounty hunter. The warrior looks up at the roofs of the nearby small docking bays and manages to leap up.

He spots Boba running through a crowd. The clone stops at the door to a far docking bay. Begging forgiveness to the cop gods, Bryne pulls his DL-44 and fires on the Fett, striking the door of the bay.

Onlookers dive for cover. Fortunately he doesn't hit any. 

He does prevent Boba from entering the docking bay. Covenant keeps his fire up. The armored figure whirls. At that particular moment, an unlucky Falleen spins around the corner on a speederbike.

Fett punches the Falleen with no second thought. He pulls the rider off and takes his place. The dust begins to settle as the bike recedes into the distance. He looks up and sees the _Draq'stone_ receding into the distance as the law and the lawless swarm the area.

_Well, shit._

"Not like he is the most important piece of this threat," he says to empty air. "Of course, I probably shouldn't leave him loose like that."

His eyes lock on something in frustration. Something sitting in the middle of the docking bay that Boba had been so desperate to get to.

Bryne Covenant smiles again as he jumps down to the permacrete floor of the docking bay. As soon as he recovers from the sprawling, undignified fall on his face of his collapsing leg, he gets up. He looks around to see if anyone had seen his landing.

Or lack thereof.

He starts to hobble with purpose to the object sitting in the bay. He can hear the rush of metal-shod feet hurrying to the bay and its chaos.

He hobbles faster.

~+~+~+~+~+

Boba Fett increases speed on the bike as he makes for the outskirts of town. He can always come back for _Slave-1_ after the cop loses interest. After all, the bounty hunter was the least important of the quarry. Unless his former employer on the Alderaan job betrayed him to the Royal House of that world.

Or Boba kills the cop. _This had been the more likely scenario, since Leve paid him to kill any Corellian pursuit._

Until Leve had tried to blow him up and then shot him. He calls up his account info for the deposit of the 100 K that the woman had given him.

His eyes narrow as he sees the amount decreasing. He curses in Mando'a. Using his HUD, he hurriedly moves the money into another account and closes the other. 

About ten thousand was left in it. _That damned woman put some sort of virus on the credit chip._

He monitors the money in the new account. It stays put for the five minutes it takes him to clear the town. Only a small number of pedestrians had been hit. He guns the engine again to move further out. He had set up a hide in a cave near a river, underneath a large plateau system. He could hide in it until Covenant lost interest.

Then he would make it his next project to find and kill that Mirialan psychopath.

His accounting maneuvers and thoughts of mayhem distract him from his escape. The ground explodes in front of him. He manages not to lose control of the bike. He checks his HUD rear view. 

His own ship, _Slave-1_ is centered in the tiny screen. Its twin cannons spit fire. He zooms in on the cockpit. A gray-haired human, last seen in a warning to a Mirialan psychopath is seated at the controls, his _buy'ce_ resting next to him. He punches a control on his vambrace. "Corellian. Set down my ship. We can talk. You don't need to continue this. Leve betrayed me. I am no longer bound to the contract."

He can hear the smirk in the reply. "I think you might be too late for that, sport," Covenant says. "You have assaulted a CorSec ranger in the performance of his duties. I think the Five Brothers might want to talk to you about that. As well as what the hell you were doing on Alderaan around the time of an assault on two senators. Around the same time as the Stanes."

"Fuck off, Shysa. You are worth no more to me than any other in your clan. Your clan was a part of Kryze's cowardly reign."

"Spare me, pup," Bryne says. "Don't give me that affronted Mando shit. I am not even sure you are Mando."

"I'm Mando enough to kill you, you son of a bitch." Boba falls silent as he concentrates on zigging from the renewed bursts of energy fire. He realizes he is coming up to the canyon. He smiles and touches another control on his vambrace.

He heads up to the edge of the canyon.

~+~+~+~+~+~

Covenant sees his target stop his jinking right and left and head straight for the edge of the canyon. He fires one last burst from one of the twin cannons. The speederbike twists into the air and falls over the edge. Bryne tries to scan through the dirt and flame, but is unable to. He veers the _Firespray_ around to land.

Alarm lights and sounds announce that he has done something that the touchy old ship didn't like.

There is silence as the engines and power shut down. He punches the power switch and jacks the throttle to and fro.

Nothing. 

_Okay_. He reaches behind him and pulls a metal cylinder from a horizontal pouch. For a microsecond, he looks at the lightsaber with something like love. He pushes the switch and the snap-hiss of the blue blade fills his ears. A blue blade that he had faced in training for most of his life. 

The blade of a beloved Master and hunt-mother.

He slices the cockpit glass and sheathes the blade. He leaps clear.

As he clears the ship, he notices that the ship comes back on and moves away. Without a thought, he brings the blade up and deflects a bolt flying to his head. He continues to deflect them as he sees the bounty hunter rising, his jetpack flaring. 

Covenant manages to land on his feet this time, but the pain from his wounds well again. He opens himself fully to the Force, hoping that no Force sensitives are in range to pick him up.

He leaps upward and strikes the hunter. The two men grapple.

A lightsaber and a blaster carbine fall to the ground. Fett's fist strikes Covenant's bare head. He had only been able to hang the bucket on his belt when he left the ship. A second blow falls on his jaw. 

Covenant punches upward under Boba's chin. The young clone's head snaps backward. His knee comes up and connects with Covenant's slug wound. The ex-Jedi grunts. He feels the blood start to flow again down his flank and leg.

His left hand moves back to the horizontal pouch on his belt, as his right is trapped in Boba's grip and cannot reach his blaster.

There is one more blade in that pouch. Another blade with love attached. A wooden handled blade. The blade of a student. A student born in sky-high trees. 

Boba triggers another burst of his jetpack. An emerald shaft unsheathes. 

Covenant strikes the nozzle of the jetpack with Gungi's blade.

A small explosion of sparks and noise comes from the device. Both men are thrown away from each other. 

Covenant lands awkwardly on his left side, directly on his left leg. He feels a bone in his lower left leg give on impact. 

He climbs to his right knee. His head swims from the blood loss of the slug wound. 

Boba is nowhere to be found.

Covenant closes his eyes and visualizes two different lightsabers in his mind. He holds both of his hands out. He waits, his heart tightening at the thought of these losses. The only thing that he has that he can touch of his Master and his student. One dead, the other hopefully alive and angry with him for sending him away.

To give him a chance to live in this maelstrom where his kind are slaughtered on sight.

He feels the slap of the blades in his hands. He opens his eyes, a slight smile on his face as he returns them to his belt.

He hears a noise near the canyon's edge. He manages to limp over.

Boba Fett lies on a ledge, about four meters below the top. His own right ankle is bent at a strange angle. 

The son of Jango Fett has pulled his helmet off. Bryne's eyes tear at the sight of that familiar face. The face now close in age to millions of brothers. A family that Boba denies wholeheartedly. 

"Well," Boba says. "Go ahead and do it. Kill me, Covenant."

Bryne looks at him sadly for a moment. "No," he says quietly. "I am not going to kill you, Boba. For all those brothers that you deny, son."

"I am not your son. And for the last fucking time, I don't have any brothers. It was just my dad and me." His face, that so familiar face twists in rage. "You had better kill me, Corellian. If you don't, I will hunt you down and slaughter you. Very slowly."

Covenant grins. "You might want to find a way off of that ledge, Boba. If you calm your rage, you might figure out how you are going to do that."

"Mark my words, Corellian scum...."

Covenant draws his blaster and in one swift move, fires it at the ledge next to the young bounty hunter. "Listen, boy. I am only going to say this once. Stay the hell out of the Core. If I hear you are anywhere near the Core worlds, I will come find you." He holsters his blaster. "A word of advice, Boba. Be careful who you take bounties from. You never know who you will piss off. On either side."

With that he turns and walks away. 

Boba Fett grows quiet as he contemplates his existence on this ledge. He pulls himself up on his uninjured leg and starts to climb.

~+~+~+~+~+

Covenant has been hobbling for the better part of an hour. The sun peaks through the ever-present clouds on Ord Mantell. He sees a rapid moving object in the distance grow closer. He starts to put his helmet on and unsling his carbine. 

He sees that it is another speederbike. 

The bike doesn't arc away from him or try to flank him. It slows to within a couple of meters of him. The rider kills the engine and dismounts. He sees the tall figure stride towards him. He lowers his helmet and smiles as he recognizes the stride.

The rider pulls their own helmet off. He looks into the beautiful face of Nola Vorrserrie. "Hey, Last Word," he says quietly. He allows his crooked grin to flow to his face. "Hey, Hero," she replies. "Looks like I may need to trade you in on a newer model." His smile fades as he looks into her eyes. While she smiles, residual pain is still present in her eyes. He reaches up and touches her face. "You okay, sweetie?" he asks.

"I will be, Bryne," she says. She pulls him into his arms. "Think we're done here. Dani and Riyo sent Leve off of a comm tower. Didn't see a body, but they did hear her hit several times. What about yours?"

"He won't be a problem," he says, matter-of-factly. She doesn't push any further. She catches him as he staggers. She transfers him to her shoulder and together, they walk to the bike. He looks up at a noise and sees a familiar old corvette arc in.

As it had many times in his last near-decade of life. As he sits on the bike's saddle awaiting the landing sequence, Nola watches the smile play on his face; the emotions - both pain and joy marking his green eyes. She closes her eyes in pain. 

She starts to open her mouth.

She starts to tell him that some of his world is alive.

Her face crumples and she turns away. Her sobs are lost in the engine noise of the _Draq'stone._


	35. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Fulcrum fights again. A hunter and a Caretaker remember.
> 
> The hunter lets go. 
> 
> Just in time for a trip to Stewjon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place anywhere from a few days to five minutes before _To the War is Gone._

Ahsoka Tano runs over the mountains of her sanctuary world. The joyful screams and laughter of the tiny creature on her shoulders reverberates throughout her body as she leaps higher and higher over the rocks.

As she touches her birthright with increasing intensity in the Eastern Mountains of Alderaan, she smiles at the control of the shielding that she had taught the little girl while floating in a deep lake not far from where they leap together.

Her smile fades as she suppresses her thoughts of where the little girl had gained her power. Of where she had gained her compassion, so evident after Ahsoka's injury.

A Smirk from her own birthright flows across her orange features. _Or the mercurial, imperious aspect of the little terror's personality._ She sobers again.

She starts as she realizes she has slowed. "You okay, 'Soka?" Leia asks. "You need to rest?"

Ahsoka laughs. "Never, sweetie. I am doing okay."

"You seem sad, 'Soka," the girl presses. Ahsoka shakes her head at the girl's perception. Thoughts of her past have pervaded her thoughts over the past few weeks, since her dreams and _whatever it was_ during her three weeks in bacta.

"Nope. Why would I be sad, babe? I have you and your laughter as we run and swim."

With that, she leaps straight down from the ridge and bounces all the way to the trail on the floor of the valley, avoiding rocks and trees with practiced ease, as her connection to the Force remains strong.

 _Inappropriate this display is_ comes from a fractured syntax of her memory. She smiles as her mind-self throws the small green creature off of the ridge. She immediately feels guilty, but contains it as they finish the run at the small mountain cabin overlooking the lake. 

As she slows to a walk, she tosses the Princess into the lake, almost nonchalantly.

The sputtering laughter as the girl erupts from the surface continues as Ahsoka allows the girl to push her head under the water as she joins her in the lake. Leia's laughter stops as she pulls the warrior tightly to her.

Ahsoka's sore muscles from her trip to Christophsis protest the squeeze but she ignores the ache.

An unaccountable warmth flows through her body as she realizes that Flori has returned from her interview with the Queen of this world.

"Hey, sweetie, I need you to do something for me," she says as she and Leia emerge from the lake.

"What, 'Soka?"

"There is someone I want you to meet. She is a good friend of mine. She is going to help take care of you."

She can see the stubbornness flow to the girl's body in her arms. "Don't start with the Queen act, yet, little mouse. She has been through a lot. I need you to help her heal. Just like you helped me."

"How is she hurt? Is she in the bed?"

Ahsoka smiles and shakes her head at the compassion. "You can't see her hurts, sweetie. Hers are on the inside."

The seriousness of the girl strikes her heart to the core. She looks up. Flori Laken, a refugee that Ahsoka had rescued, along with her two brothers, from a slaving Imperial officer on her latest mission.

A rescue in which one of her brothers had not survived. A rescue in which the other brother's anger at Ahsoka had driven him away into the ranks of Cham Syndulla's movement.

Flori's blue eyes cut through Ahsoka as they walk up to her. An unspoken moment, a moment of memory of Ahsoka holding the young Zeltron as nightmares and grief racked her night.

A smile of promise marks her beautiful features; a promise of follow-through of the comforts of her people for Ahsoka demonstrates her healing. Ahsoka feels the promise in her core. 

Fortunately it is focused and Ahsoka doesn't have to answer awkward questions from the little terror.

Flori turns to the little girl. She simply kneels and waits as she is examined. "Hello, your Highness. I am Flori. I am yours." She bows her head.

A giggle is heard from the Princess. She walks up and pulls the young woman into her arms.

Hopefully, Flori will last longer than the other six.

As she smiles at the sight of the Princess and her new companion, Ahsoka pushes the nagging buzz in her Force-sense away. 

As she had done since it manifested several months ago. She pushes the vision of the accompanying crooked grin away as well.

~+~+~+~+~+

Daaineran Faygan lies in the crook of the arm of the injured warrior. Her resonance burbles with comfort as her cousin and brother of the heart heals from his encounter with the Fett. A few days in bacta and some rest; he is already complaining of inactivity and boredom.

Neither of them are quite ready to relieve the boredom in the traditional way of her people. Both are still recovering from the physical injuries incurred in their battle with the ex-Separatist murderer and the bounty hunter. She had spent her own time in bacta, her left arm still is not moving without twinges of pain.

Covenant's left leg is healing, its bone already knitted and the blaster burn not even a scar with the quickness he had gotten into the healing soup.

She laughs as she remembers his dismissal of the slug wound. _Just lost a love handle, darlin',_ he had said with a warm grin. 

Her smile fades as she remembers the pain she had heard and seen on his face as he slept. She is fairly certain that he could watch hers as she slept as well. She is also of a certainty that their thoughts and memories go to those of two women of the same species. Two huntresses, one older, one younger.

Both of them dead in the slaughter of their claimed kind. Of those with their birthright.

Dani shakes the thoughts of the past away as she looks at the gift from the hunter lying on the opposite nightstand. Her eyes soften as she appreciates the beauty and craftwork of the gift. Her heart leaps as she sees the _Wroshyr_ wood grips on the dark metal of the Westar 35.

A weapon from his mother's world. One that had graced the belt and hands of another young woman who had claimed his heart. A young warrior and worker in the hard metal of their world, who had re-forged his heart and soul after the loss of his family and loves. The woman who had forged his suit of that armor and iron.

A young woman who had died, along with their unborn son, trying to free his brothers from slavery and death, as well as others who could not fight for themselves.

Dani reaches over and lifts the blaster in its hand-tooled nerf-leather holster. A holster designed to be carried at the small of her back, to be grasped by her healing left hand.

She grins. A carry-style emulated by a certain young ex-Handmaiden and beloved foster sister, albeit with the right hand.

She draws the weapon, careful to eject the power cell. She lets it rest in the palm of her hand, perfectly balanced. She marvels at the symbolism inherent in the weapon. 

A four-pointed star carved into the hard wood of the grip. A star with each arm differently colored. Purple, green, orange, and black. Two colors of an Elder Family on a Core World, as well as two colors of Mandalorian armor. Colors that had adorned the armor of that young wife and mother. Colors referring to a lust for life, as well as justice.

The other colors with dual meaning for both worlds. Purple for justice in one, and allegedly, luck for the other. Green for faith, as well as duty.

A star in the center in pure gold. The gold of power and vengeance. The star representing the largest of the Five Brothers of the Corellian system. 

Dani remembers their words when he had given her the gift. A gift matched by one that he claimed for himself, to carry when the full gunbelt with its heavy Corellian blaster goes against any form of discretion or cover.

"I can't accept this, Bryne. This is your love's....," she had said. He had smiled gently and closed her hand on the weapon. "No. This is my family's. She would want a warrior like you to have it. One like her. One who is compassionate, but fierce, filled with love and care, and no small amount of smart-assedness," he had replied.

She had laughed. "Not even sure that is a word, outside of the Five Brothers." Other words are unspoken. Words that don't need to be spoken. Words that acknowledge that there are others in their lives, in this world and the next who fit that description.

She returns the weapon to its perch. With only a slight hesitation, she pulls the small amount of clothing that she is wearing off. Her lips play on his as she wakes him for a different kind of comfort.

Later, as they lay dozing and resting again, recovering their breaths, his eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

Fixed as he thinks of one of those others. One of his and Jo's inspirations. He grits his teeth as he moves the buzz in his Force-sense to the back of his mind. As he makes a decision.

_Goodbye Ahsoka, my hunt-sister. I don't think you would want me to wallow in my memories and pain, as I have before. I will live in your memory._

_I will fight in your memory._

Bryne Covenant, once known as Taliesin Croft of the Jedi Order and born Jame Blackthorn of Corellia and Mandalore, falls asleep, hoping that this is enough.

He still dreams of the young huntress as he sleeps. The sensation of blue and orange light still nags at him, as if he is missing something.

~+~+~+~+~+

The new arrival listens as several of the inhabitants of this world discuss the funding that has arrived from their supporters elsewhere. Money skimmed from the profits of an ancient family's company. A company that is in the process of tearing wealth from the moons of this world. A world of fighters and farmers, now cowed before the new order.

All except for the people in this room. The instigators of a now passive resistance to the New Order. A resistance waiting on the approval of a secretive operative and her even more secretive allies.

A young woman that legends speaks of bringing down a ship of that new order single-handedly.

The man watches as a relief group works at distributing needed food and medical supplies. Supplies needed since the more active rebellion against one faction from their homeworld had failed and the New Order had stepped in.

An ancient company that had basically robbed the world of producing their own food and distributing it with its usurious fees and taxes on private businesses.

Including small farmers. The immigrant smiles as he watches two Senators, both former enemies help unload the supplies. One, a handsome Corellian, works with the other, a red-haired woman, to maneuver a large crate from the ship.

He can see their laughter as the crate nearly slips to the ground. Even at this distance, the watcher can see that there is still tension in their bodies. Tension from several years of tearing each other apart in the Senate, as well as in private rooms.

The watcher starts as sees the speaker, a man named Merrik, beckons to his name.

He turns as Merrik introduces him. "Our sometime ally, Jan t'Kryze has found someone that she knows who might be able to help us stretch this money out and use it to combat TaggeCo, as well as with strategy and tactics."

The recent immigrant allows a broad smile to flow across his azure features. His bronze eyes survey the small assembly. "My name is Sorentin Rhayme. I am a military man on my world." His eyes lock on the pale blue eyes of Jan t'Kryze. They both smile at one another.

The crowd watches expectantly as the tall, muscular Pantoran, with sideways crosses and dots tattooed in yellow, red, and green on his cheeks looks out at them for a moment. He turns to a dark-skinned young man in his late teens next to him. "My partner, here, has some ideas about the financial aspect. That is his area of expertise."

The young man smiles a true disarming grin under the wisp of a mustache.

"Pleased to meet you. My name is Calrissian."

"But you can call me Lando," he finishes.

~+~+~+~+~+

The large Besalisk watches as the hooded and masked figure shimmers into existence over the scrambled holocomm. The intergalactic shadow known as Malaky examines him without greeting. The figure looks down and offscreen.

"You appear to have good bonafides, Mr. Krell," the figure says. "I think that you will be just what I need. Especially if you can get yourself appointed to the Ubiqtorate, as well as bring down Moff Secor. Your connections to the different syndicates will serve me well as I consolidate my wealth."

Gontan Krell says nothing. He merely tries to determine if his mysterious new benefactor is male or female, human or otherwise.

"It will be an added bonus if you can bring down Cham Syndulla." Krell can hear the smile in the modulated voice. "Especially since I leaked your info to him. He has been problematic for several of our operations on Ryloth."

Krell speaks for the first time. "I have already been contacted. I will be meeting on Stewjon with a representative. I can either kill them or have them lead me to Cham or even higher if I am patient."

The shadow says nothing, merely nods. There is a moment of silence as the Besalisk lawyer realizes his presence is no longer required.

The shadow known as Malaky waits for a half-second. Its photoreceptors grow dim behind the mask as the modulator switches off. 

Commander Cantos Lardai, Imperial Naval Commandos, turns to Colonel Leeza Antol. "Well, that's done. Anything else?"

The newly appointed Deputy Director for Special Projects of ISB is silent for a moment. She turns to her assistant. "Yes Cant, I do. Might be slightly out of policy."

"Never stopped me before, Leez," the diminutive commando says. "What do you need?"

"I think that Malaky needs some off-the-books muscle and laser fodder. How about going to Naboo and doing some terminal restaurant criticism."

Lardai's eyes widen. "How many do you want me to end?" she asks quietly.

"Skon and Jed need to die. They have run my family into the ground. Jad should be fine; he is in prison on Corellia. I will reach out to him. If he wants to make an issue of it, then we can arrange for him to have a tragic accident."

"Leeza, are you sure? They are your family." Antol touches the commando's face. "I am sure. It is time for a new _Antol'ich'a_ to arise. One who serves her true family." Antol nods, as if coming to a decision. "The Empire. You and your commandos are my family, Cant."

Cantos Lardai comes to attention and salutes. She follows Antol into another room after her salute is returned. She stands next to her superior. They both gaze at the dim light of a bacta tank. The woman's greenish-yellow skin absorbs the healing fluid as what is left of her floats in the tank. The dull metal of plates and replaced appendages reflect the low light.

Both women remain nonplussed as the one remaining ice-chip blue eye snaps open and locks on them. The hatred is evident in the orb. What remains of Leve Stane turns her head slightly. A large metal plate on the right side of her shaven head catches the light.

~+~+~+~+~+

Kylantha, elected Queen of the Naboo, watches sympathetically as her former Captain of the Guard heaves into the planter in the garden. One hand holds the woman's hair back from the deluge, the other rubs Hana's back gently. As the heaving slows and then stops, she helps the woman up and allows her a moment. As the _Dai-Lin_ rinses her mouth with water from a pitcher, the Queen turns to the tall woman standing patiently, watching the tableau. A woman dressed similarly to the Queen, but with only a superficial physical resemblance, unlike others of her occupation in the past.

This Queen does not use decoys for her protection. She relied on the training of her Handmaidens and guards.

A Handmaiden such as this tall woman. "Storae', you are my trusted companion from my childhood. Since Hana has acquired Shaizan, we have an opportunity. An opportunity to make a better world, while protecting Naboo from exposure."

The Chief Handmaiden merely nods. "Hana will be working with various others to help, ah, _finance_ certain endeavors in the galaxy. You, and my other sisters, will use your skills and training to protect and facilitate these endeavors."

Hana walks over to the Queen. Kylantha smiles gently and kisses the woman on the forehead. They both turn to Storae'. "I have contact information for someone named Fulcrum," Hana says. "They will be your handler and your contact." She looks sharply at the Handmaiden. "Queen Kylantha must be separated from this. The Empire must continue to think of her as a puppet." She looks away.

Storae' smiles, her brown eyes steady. "I understand, Hana. We are expendable. It is the life we have chosen."

She can see the tears in the Queen's blue eyes. She beckons Storae' closer. The Queen raises Hana's top slightly. She takes the young attendant's hand and places it on Hana's belly. Her hand joins the placement on the tiny, almost unnoticeable bulge. "This is what we are fighting for, love. What you may have to die for." Kylantha says quietly.

Storae' looks at Hana. "Do you know what it will be?" she asks. The _Dai-Lin_ shakes her head. "No. But I think that it will be a daughter. Just a feeling."

"What is the name you have chosen?"

Hana smiles. She tries not to think of green eyes and a crooked grin. 

"Her name will be Sosha."

~+~+~+~+~+

A hunter climbs up to a gabled roof on a tiny planet. A planet of farmers, but one that had produced a respected Jedi master. One of the few that he had respected towards the end.

Bryne Covenant climbs up the pitch. He pulls a grappling spike and tries to sink it into the material.

It sinks. As he pulls on it, the spike gives from the material. He looks at the surrounding roofs. 

All of them are of the same material. He sighs and opens himself to the Force. His shields drop with the effort of holding himself to the roof.

His Force-sense buzzes with a low hum. Something is tripping it, now that his shields are lowered.

He sits up as a tall figure walks slowly into the square. The figure is hooded and cowled with a long coat covering most of the body. He watches as the figure heads to a specific bench and after a look in all directions, sits. A small object is produced and lined up in a precise way, even with the edge of the bench. He zooms in with his HUD. The object is a small, thick book.

Yep. He taps his wrist. "Hey, short-shit. Let Dani know that the principal is here, so that the Dragon can relax his sphincter."

"Okay, putz," comes the reply. "Remember, Draq' and Dani said no contact with the principal."

"Yes, Dad," Bryne says.

Covenant stretches his left leg, flexing it. The injuries inflicted by Boba Fett have healed for the most part. 

The wounds inflicted on Empire Day and on a deserted Republic Medical and Surgery Unit will take longer to heal.

His watch begins.

~+~+~+~+~+

A huntress sighs as she sits on the bench for the second night. The only difference from the first night is that it is now pouring buckets of rain on her.

 _The things that I do to free the galaxy,_ Ahsoka Tano thinks as her hood begins to wilt to her montrals. She lifts it up, so that she can maintain a semblance of disguise. 

She had taken the initiative to cover the old book with clear plastic when she placed it just so on the bench for another night of waiting on her contact to show.

She had debated as to whether the bottle of Corellian whiskey in her belongings at her hostel should have been brought. 

She pulls the bottle from an inside pocket and covers her mouth as she eases the cowl down to bring the bottle to her lips.

The Whyren's gives a pleasant burn as it goes down.

She caps the bottle and returns it to its warm resting place.

As she had for the first night, she tries to only think about her mission and the possibilities of gaining movement intel on an entire Mid Rim Imperial sector fleet.

She pushes the thoughts of the bright presence she had felt for the last few months away. She pushes the thoughts of the tiny burble in the Force since she sat down the previous night. A very slight disturbance. 

As she always does when it flares, she surreptitiously looks all around.

There is nothing. She sits back and raises the visible skin of her face to the rain.

A very long, hot shower in the communal shower room will not come amiss. A slight Force suggestions and the other denizens of the hostel will stay away.

Ahsoka Tano sighs.

Her watch continues.

~+~+~+~+~+

_On the fourth night of the watch, on a world thousands of light years away, an ancient creature in the middle, opens his eyes from his reverie. He smiles as a connection in the Force winds its way between two points on the same bucolic world._

_Light flares in his sense, as the tiniest energy builds._

_Towards contact._


	36. Epilogue: The Return of the Fulcrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in the middle watches. And waits.

_The creature known as the Bendu watches carefully. He sees the young huntress healing and returning to her power._

_The power of her Force-sense and of her birthright._

_But her commitment wavers. Her faith in the powers of light is tested on a daily basis, as she fights at the forefront, but in the shadows of a movement._

_Her doubt in her allies' ability to understand her. Of their fear of her power, because of her connection to the fallen Chosen One. Even though she has no knowledge that her beloved Master is the instrument of terror and darkness in the galaxy._

_Because of the same passion that she shows for helping people, without the fear and anger._

_The one in the middle smiles to himself as he watches her. The huntress is everything that her Master could've been; the realization of his powerful potential._

_The Bendu's eyes grow concerned. Her potential and power could be wasted. She could be spent in her ongoing desire to make right the pain in the galaxy._

_She could be spent before she can help build the movement that will help the one who is the true hope to restore balance to the Force._

_She is the Fulcrum upon all hopes of balance will rest. Not because she can defeat the darkness, or even reach the one who has been the crimson sword in the night for darkness, and return him to the light._

_The Bendu thinks of the other Force-user that he has seen. One who also helped shape the huntress._

_One who is weaker in the Force, but holds the power to conceal and shield. One who has only recently regained his connection to the Force. A connection severed in cauldron of the death of his fellow Jedi._

_One who mourns his dead, including the young huntress. A huntress who became something more for a brief moment before the Cataclysm that both survived._

_One who is as mystified as the huntress as glimpses of the other penetrate their grief and their shared abilities in the Force._

_As glimpses of the other can be found through the mists of memory and of pain._

_The Bendu is struck by the similarities in certain overlays in how their Force presences are displayed._

_The huntress, is overlaid by a green and gold light - overlaid with the her own blue and orange light._

_The other's light is shown as a different shade of green and gold, splashed with purple._

_The Bendu is mystified, as he can detect no essence of the Daughter in the other._

_The Bendu realizes the role of the other._

_He will protect the huntress, as she builds the fight against darkness._

_As she fulfills the role of light, until the true hope can grow and come of age._

_The Bendu gives a slight smile as he watches the ebbs and eddies of time and space draw the two back to each other. He slumbers again._

_To await the new hope. Or the huntress's ascension._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Gifts Over the Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302505) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)




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